The Dragon's Horn
by Wil1969
Summary: Mordred has a dream that might put Camelot in danger. But can he convince Arthur, and even more important, Merlin of this fact? (Story takes place right after Season 5 Episode 2)
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** The Dragon's Horn  
 **Category:** Gen (Canon AU)

 **Characters/Pairings:** Merlin, Mordred, Arthur, Gwaine, Kilgharrah  
 **Rating/Warning:** T

 **Summary:** Mordred has a dream that might put Camelot in danger. But can he convince Arthur, and even more important, Merlin of this fact? (Story takes place right after Season 5 Episode 2)

* * *

 _Chapter 1_

Spring had come late this year. The sun had shone brightly for a couple of days, occasionally chased away by a thunderstorm or even a patch of hail. Today the sky was a perfect blue, the sun trying to warm the earth, but the chill in the air still palpable on exposed faces and hands. Early spring flowers fought their way up to the sun, restarting a cycle of life, and Camelot was bustling with a restless sort of activity. Spring cleaning was around the corner, and it was felt by all except the royal family. Even though everyone knew the queen insisted on personally 'mucking' out her closet, as she called it.

The secluded field next to the stables was alive with activity this early in the morning. The grass, if you could call it that, on the field used for exercising the horses, was muddy and uneven. The mud-speckled young man with the dark curls, riding a small brown mare, had only just started to ride around the paddock.

"Sit up straight, Mordred." Gwaine stood on the south side of the field, waving his arms in the air as to emphasize a certain move Mordred had to follow. Gwaine was one of the best riders in Camelot, so it had become his duty to teach the young and inexperienced. Mordred could ride a horse, but only knew the basics. As a knight of Camelot in training, he needed to learn more than that. "Heel behind the girth, tighten the reins... Come on, faster."

"Are you certain it's Mordred on the horse?" King Arthur's voice carried over the terrain, as he and Sir Leon walked towards where Gwaine was standing with a devilish grin that spoke volumes. He would probably make young Mordred look like a mud man by the time they were finished with the lessons.

"With all the mud it's hard to recognise anyone, Sire," Leon answered, a smile tugged at his mouth as he tried to be as serious and polite as possible. "He seems to become a fair rider though."

Arthur turned towards Merlin, who was sitting on a low bench near the entrance to the stables, polishing one of the king's saddles, while watching Mordred's riding progressions.

"What do you think, Merlin?"

He'd barely asked the question when Mordred was thrown off the horse and landed face first with a loud splat in the middle of a puddle of muddy water. It dripped from his face and hair when he sat up, looking bemused, which earned him a smirk from Gwaine, and a shocked gaze from Leon.

"He'll make a fine rider," Merlin answered, before turning his concentration back to his chore amidst the chuckles of Arthur and the knights. Arthur walked towards Mordred to give him a hand, as Merlin could clearly see out of the corner of his eyes.

The sun might be bright, making a comfortable warm spot on his back while he sat there polishing the leather under his fingers, but Merlin was in a depressing mood. He didn't want to feel this way, he should have felt different after coming back from Ismere. Arthur was alive and safe, and Morgana had been defeated once more. And by none other than the new knight in town, Mordred. He should rejoice, but he felt agitated, lost in some limbo world of mixed emotions.

Merlin felt very conflicted about the whole destiny and Mordred affair. The terrible vision the a vates, Lochru, had shown him weighed heavily on his heart, on his very soul. There had been no mistake, and after his conversation with Kilgharrah about it, it had been even clearer. Mordred would be Arthur's downfall. But was this only one part of the future, and could it be altered? Merlin had never been so uncertain about anything in his life. Mordred was such a likable young fellow. He would be a great friend if Merlin let him get close, he was certain of that.

But could he? What if becoming close to Mordred meant bringing Arthur's downfall even faster? What would happen if he intervened and destiny played a cruel trick on him again by letting Arthur die? He knew one thing for sure; he would not let that happen. Arthur had to live, even if it meant pushing Mordred away. The boy wanted nothing more than to be accepted, to be trusted. But it wasn't easy, and would never become easy.

Yes, Merlin almost hated himself for feeling this low. It was such a beautiful, bright spring day, and the knights, including Arthur, were having so much fun. Even Mordred smiled on occasion, and he knew this didn't happen very often. He wished there was something to smile about for him as well, and he felt a slight pang of envy rising in his chest when he saw Arthur and Gwaine jump out of the way when Mordred shook himself like a wet dog, sending splatters of mud flying in all directions. Of course he enjoyed it when his friends were happy. Not knowing about their own future was a precious gift, after all.

Arthur was about to leave the field, and Merlin knew it was time to finish his work on the saddle, to follow along, making sure the King got fed and changed into a fresh pair of clothes after lunch.

" _Merlin!"_

"Coming..."

Mordred didn't understand. All he wanted was Merlin's trust. He knew he had Arthur's, no doubt about it, and he was getting very well acquainted with the knights as well. His training had been going really well, and it felt like he'd found a true place he could call home. He felt more confident of his own abilities every day, and his riding lessons were thrilling, like being totally free, and it was amazing. Even landing in the mud was exhilarating in a way. He'd never felt like this before, and it was clear to him when he'd taken Arthur's hand to jump up, these were his friends, and they would support him unconditionally.

But Emrys was a riddle to him, always had been. One Mordred would gladly solve. But staring at the man, who stared back at him from where he was cleaning a saddle in a way that made his skin crawl, it all but seemed impossible. Merlin had saved him once when he was still a child, lost and hurt, only to turn his back on him. This had happened to Mordred all his life. Always on the run, always hiding, being shunned, even by his own people at times. He had always wondered what it was about him that made them avoid him like the plague. He'd been a child, and all he had wanted was a little love.

It hurt him very much someone like Emrys was doing the same. But it didn't mean he would give up hope. Maybe Merlin had his reasons to act this way with him now? Maybe it was a test? And all he had to do was his best, and show them all he was worthy of the tasks they bestowed upon him? He hadn't been around Camelot for as long as the other knights of course, so it was only normal it took some time for Merlin to notice his good intentions.

He actually hadn't given Merlin any reason to trust him in the first place, being in league with Morgana of all people. But Morgana had changed, and was ruled only by her hatred now. Mordred understood hatred, but also knew it didn't solve anything. In fact, it only made matters worse. Iseldir had taught him this after king Uther had executed his father and he'd been full of hatred himself. The emotion and the reaction of his magic to it, had scared him very much. Enough to feel alone and afraid to use his magical abilities again. Iseldir also taught him to conquer his fears and live.

Mordred still didn't like to use his magic, though. It had only brought him trouble in the past, so he became a master in avoiding it. It almost became second nature to him, which made his life in Camelot, where magic was still forbidden, much easier. Of course he truly believed, or wanted to believe, king Arthur would restore magic to the lands someday. With the help of Emrys, as was written in the stars. Mordred just wished he could also play a part in this grand event, and to accomplish it, he needed Merlin to trust him.

Saving Arthur had earned him the king's trust, but he hadn't actually saved Merlin that day. He had left him behind, which had been a stupid mistake. He would have gone back for him, but Sir Gwaine had beaten him to it. The knight had been suspicious of him to begin with, but Gwaine wasn't a man to mistrust anyone for long, so they were becoming friends, which made Mordred really happy. He wasn't too fond of the trips to the tavern though.

The idea made him want to smile, but the smile wouldn't come when he noticed Merlin, gazing at him once more in an open display of distrust. Merlin couldn't hide his feelings, even if he wanted to. It made Mordred wonder how he managed to keep his magic a secret for such a long time.

While riding his horse this morning, he had felt Merlin's eyes on him again and again. It was like every move he made was questioned, every word was weighed and the steady gaze in Merlin's eyes almost looked like a jealous man. As if he was afraid Mordred would become better friends with Arthur then he was.

The idea had left him pretty quickly though, as he knew Merlin well enough to know he was just being overprotective of the king, sometimes even a little obsessed, but perhaps he had a reason? It all came back to this. A reason. Maybe there was something Mordred didn't know?

"Well done, Mordred." Arthur slapped him on the back, mud flying everywhere, when he led his horse back to the stables. "We'll make a great rider out of you, won't we Gwaine?"

"We will?" Gwaine feigned being shocked, earning him a slap on the back of the head. "Hey, watch the hair, princess!"

Mordred couldn't help but smile, and it made him feel all warm inside. "Thank you, Sire."

" _Merlin!"_ Arthur shouted over to where the servant was just pushing the polished saddle he'd been working on into one of the stable boys' hands. Mordred knew what it was like to do chores like this by hand instead of magic. It kept the mind and body occupied, and was way safer of course.

"Coming..."

This time Mordred didn't follow Arthur when he left the field. He would normally be very eager to talk to the king, but he didn't want to stand in the way when Merlin walked over to Arthur to escort him back to his quarters, no doubt preparing him for some ceremony, and to serve lunch. Mordred's own time would come to serve his king, but today he was content with returning to the knights' quarters for a midday meal.

***  
After a quick lunch, Merlin found himself in Arthur's chambers, getting ready to lay out the clothes for the king before the gathering of the round table. The routine was imbedded in his mind after so many years, he didn't have to think while going about the room, diving into Arthur's closet to find a red shirt. His thoughts were free to roam and fishing out the shirt, they flitted back to the training grounds, and to Mordred.

Mordred, trying his best to fit in. Trying his best to make friends, to be accepted, to belong. Not too long ago, Merlin had been like him. Always going out of his way to be friendly to anyone, to try and blend in with his surroundings, to please his friends and Arthur. To please Arthur. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't very different from Mordred, after all. It frightened him. If Mordred could become what Merlin feared, what about Merlin himself?

The shirt was stuck and Merlin muttered under his breath, while he carefully started to untangle it, doing his best to avoid ripping it. It was just going to be one of those days, he decided while turning to see if the king was still sitting at the table eating his lunch. Guinevere would normally have been there for lunch as well, but she had some urgent errands to run in the lower town. The queen, or rather, his friend Gwen, would never change. Always looking out for the people in need. Her people in need. Merlin wished he could be that strong, committed, but there was so much doubt gnawing away at him lately, he wasn't sure about anything anymore.

Arthur wasn't where he should have been, but instead was standing right in front of him when he turned, startling him. When had he moved away from the table? He wasn't normally so fast, or was he? He bit the inside of his lip to stop his startled reaction. There was no need for Arthur to see it, or he would never hear the end of it.

"Ah, Sire... I have your shirt, I thought you were..."

"Tell me something, Merlin." Arthur had an intense look on his face, gazing at him, eyes full of questions. Merlin knew the look, and wondered what was going on in his friend's mind. "Do you really dislike Mordred this much?"

Merlin froze, the king's red shirt in his hands suddenly a vessel to hold onto tightly. He looked away, couldn't bear to meet his friend's eyes. A feeling of dread crept up inside his stomach, while he tried to figure out why Arthur was asking this in the first place.

Had he not been carefully hiding his negative emotions towards Mordred? The druid boy destined to kill the king? This knowledge weighed down on Merlin every day, every hour, when he saw the likable knight in training, like today. When Mordred and Arthur were together like the best of friends. Even if he wanted to ignore it all, he couldn't. Of course he would never openly express his feelings towards Mordred to Arthur. The future was not set in stone after all, and maybe Merlin didn't see the true path in its whole? Maybe...

"Sire?" he asked, losing his grip on the shirt while he let out quiet sigh, trying to relax his tense muscles. He walked up to Arthur and started his chore of dressing the king, still avoiding the stare.

"Every time you two are together there's this, I don't know, tension in the air?"

"He's a fine knight, my Lord."

"Merlin. What's wrong with you?"

Arthur sounded exasperated, and Merlin knew he was treading on dangerous ground. Arthur was blind to a lot of things, but he wasn't a fool. The king liked Mordred, so Merlin better come up with a good distracting answer why his servant didn't. He wished with all his heart he could tell Arthur the truth, about that horrible vision he'd seen. Of course he couldn't, and compassion towards Mordred slowly died inside him every day because of it.

"I'll try and interact with him a bit more, Sire."

"Good."

The answer seemed to satisfy Arthur, but Merlin knew he would be watched. Not that it made a difference, as he didn't feel interacting with Mordred would make all his worries about the young man go away. That would be way too easy, and life was never easy after all.

Gaius had lit all the candles in the room before he'd settled down in his favourite chair to read an interesting book on the healing properties of common herbs and plants. At least he hoped it would be interesting. If it was, he would be able to disappear for a while from the rest of the world, not hearing anything, no notice of what was happening around him. It would be just him and his book. But this evening he was distracted when a loud sigh from Merlin reached his ears. Not such an interesting book after all then.

Merlin had come in after his late evening chores, had grabbed himself a bit of stew and sat eating without saying a word. Normally he would be chattering on and on about his chores, about Arthur and about him being a royal prat and all, but lately it had been very quiet. Gaius didn't mind quiet, but from Merlin it was odd. It wasn't normal. It would only happen if something was wrong, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what it was.

Well, others might not notice of course, as Merlin would put a smile on his face and bury himself in chores that didn't necessarily need doing. It was his way of coping with the strains of life and destiny. Gaius wished it would be different. That they could go back in time, and Merlin would still be the boy he used to be. Gaius had many regrets about the past himself, wishing he could do it all over again. But he just had to learn to live with his choices in life. Like everyone.

He closed the book with a slap, startling Merlin, who almost choked on his stew. But that was also the only reaction he got. The young man didn't turn around or make a comment, nothing. It was very disturbing actually, the quiet. Gaius knew the next move would be his, and he wouldn't waste it.

"Merlin?"

"Hmm?" His ward didn't look at him, but started to pick at his stew as if it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

"What's wrong?"

"Why does everyone assume there's something wrong with me?" It wasn't said in a snappy way, but more in a low whispering voice, as if Merlin wanted to warn him to stop asking, but he knew he shouldn't even try with Gaius. He had way too much respect for him.

"You've had the face of a prune and the sting of a wasp for days on end."

"Sting of a wasp?" This did get Merlin's attention, and he raised his head to look at Gaius. His brows went high up into his hairline, and there was a tiny inch of a smile lightening his features. It didn't reach his eyes though, which was to be expected.

"Face like a prune," Gaius suggested once more, tilting his head slightly while he stood up slowly from the chair. He was always feeling stiff and sore after sitting down too long, the downside of old age. He moved to sit down again at his familiar spot opposite Merlin. "The vision about Mordred killing Arthur?"

"I can't seem to get it out of my head, Gaius. Every time I see Mordred, it brings back this awful realisation he's our enemy, that he will kill the king someday." Merlin shook his head, his spoon dropped on the table, his plate shoved away in agitation. "And the way he is with Arthur. So friendly, so open, so plain..."

"Nice?"

"Yes."

"We talked about this not too long ago, my boy. The future can be altered. There is nothing to suggest it can't be altered by you, himself, or anyone else for that matter." Gaius' hand landed on Merlin's, and he patted its warm surface a little awkwardly. "Mordred is a nice boy, and I said it once before, you should give him the benefit of the doubt."

"What if I can't bring myself to do so?" Merlin asked, a lost look in his eyes which made Gaius flinch for a moment. "Even Arthur noticed my animosity towards him. He questioned me about it this morning. I'm really obvious, am I?"

"Yes, you are."

"Arthur always tells me I'm no good in keeping secrets," Merlin snorted, placing his hands under his chin like he always did when he was thinking hard. He would fidget with his fingers, touch his face, his hair, resting his head in his hands. Gaius knew all the signs. He might be great at keeping secrets that really mattered, but hiding his true emotions was a whole other thing. "Do you really think the future can be changed, Gaius? Be honest."

Gaius didn't even have to consider the question, as he was certain it was possible. Morgana's dreams of prophecy had taught him much. Parts of these dreams would come true, but other parts were altered at times in the past. It made him confident not everything Merlin saw in that vision would come to pass exactly how it had been seen. Even great seers didn't have all the knowledge of the world. And he doubted Kilgharrah knew the future in detail either. It was up to him to strengthen Merlin's belief that nothing was certain.

"Yes, Merlin, I really think we can change what lies ahead."

"Do you really honestly feel I should give Mordred the benefit of the doubt?"

"Yes."

For the first time that evening, Merlin genuinely smiled at him. It wasn't a bright smile, but a smile nonetheless, and Gaius couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved. It wasn't easy to convince Merlin of anything if he set his mind on something. It could be like talking to a wall, but that didn't mean Gaius would give up, ever. He was meant to help and guide Merlin, and he would try to give it everything he got. Merlin was like a son to him, and seeing him relax, even a bit, was good.

"What were you reading anyway?" Merlin suddenly asked, breaking the seriousness between them, while he put away his plate. Gaius noticed he had eaten all of the stew, which was indeed a very good sign, and the curious look he got made his heart sing. The old Merlin was still in there somewhere, and in time he would come to the surface again.

"Ah, nothing important my boy, just something about..."

"Herbs, plants and potions?"

Mordred was dreaming.

He was consciously aware of the fact he was, and also very much aware he should remember what would be going on in said dream, as it might be important. He knew from Morgana as she'd always had many prophetic dreams, the gift of the seer. Growing into a young adolescent, Mordred started to have dreams about events that would later happen for real as well. It had really frightened him at first, but then he'd remembered a young Morgana, and the way she used to put his mind at ease and tell him about her magical abilities and her dreams. They were nothing to be scared about, as they could be used for good. The gift of foresight could be used to their advantage.

A wave of sadness passed over him, even while he slept. Morgana had been such a good person, and now she was lost. He wished he could have saved her from insanity, but he'd been too late. He felt a pang of guilt inside his heart, even though there had been no choice but to prevent her from killing Arthur. The love that binds us is more important than the power we wield, he'd told Merlin, and Morgana had forgotten that.

Bright flashing images passed before his eyes, and he felt himself drift into places he'd never seen before. He saw a tunnel, filled with water, there was a feeling of being trapped, of suffocating, and a giant dragon. Its fire spit across him in a cave, while he was holding onto an object he'd never seen before. It looked like the horn of a dragon, coal black, and as large as his two hands together. A dragon carved into the side of it, and this was a horn you could blow on to make music. Intriguing lines were engraved in the mouth piece, and the mouth piece itself seemed to be made of gold. It looked beautiful, yet frightening.

The dream switched again, and the huge dragon raged, and absolutely terrified of its fire and madness, Mordred dropped the horn and ran. Ran through forests and streets until he felt out of breath. The dragon no longer in sight, but the fear still tangible inside his whole body.

Suddenly there was a sensation of flying across the land. The five kingdoms passed below him. Then he saw someone, a shadow figure blow the dragon's horn, its sound deafening, the walls of Camelot crumbling, barely able to withstand such a force of sound. The sound felt alive, vibrating, the whole of the Earth was shaking. It was so real and powerful and scary, Mordred let out a scream in fear, and everything turned dark.

He panted, sitting up in bed, cold sweat dripping from his forehead and sliding down his back. The room lit by only one small candle on his bed stand, and after realising he was fully awake, he breathed in deep to stop the shaking of his hands. It felt like his whole body had cramped, and his muscles were sore and tired. This was no ordinary dream. This had been much more, he knew...

He really had to tell Arthur about it, but he knew the king would probably laugh at him if he would tell him it had been a dream. No way would he believe Camelot might be in actual danger. Mordred knew he had to come up with another story to warn the king about this dragon's horn. The magical object could be Camelot's downfall in the wrong hands. But Arthur would probably not believe that either, although... Arthur wasn't a fool. He would want to destroy any dangerous magical artefact, or lock it safely inside the vaults.

He stuffed his pillow behind his back and took a sip from his cup of water on the bed stand. It looked like it was still in the middle of the night, but Mordred knew he couldn't go back to sleep. He needed to come up with a plan to warn Arthur. Camelot had to stay safe, no matter what. These were his friends now, this was his home. He could never go back being a wanderer, being a nobody, shunned and prosecuted, always hiding, always in fear someone would find out about who he truly was.

No, he was determined not to let this happen again, ever.

When the sun finally appeared, its first rays pushing through the curtains of his room, Mordred knew exactly what to do. It was a matter of trust, and a test of faith. If Arthur truly believed in him, he would listen and not question his motives. King Arthur was a man of honour, loyalty, and Mordred looked up to him, wanting to believe he would at least hear him out.

He quickly finished dressing, managed only barely to brush his hair in a decent array of curls, grabbed an old, and way too small piece of bread out of his cupboard, standard in every knights room, bed, bed stand and cupboard, before heading off to the king's quarters. Would Arthur even be up this early? When he almost bumped into Merlin in a corridor near the king's chambers, his hands full of plates, heading in his direction, he knew Arthur was at least about to get woken up by his loyal servant.

"Merlin." Mordred gave the other man a tight smile. He wasn't in the mood of doing his best to be nice and friendly with Merlin this morning. His task was to warn the king, and it was an important one. Maybe he should have consulted with Sir Leon first, though? Or another trusty knight? Merlin was certainly looking at him in a suspicious manner, but that wasn't new of course.

"Mordred, where are you heading?"

"I need to speak to Arthur."

"This early? He hasn't had his breakfast yet, are you certain you want risk it?"

"Yes, Merlin, I am certain. It's important."

"I'll go see if he and the queen are up then."

"Thank you."

While Merlin opened the door to the king's chambers without knocking, walked inside and all but slammed it in his face, Mordred stepped back, slightly startled and started to pace. To the left, a bit down the corridor, back again, small paces, hands tightly balled into fists. A tense feeling had been settling into the pit of his stomach, and with the dream still vivid in his mind, he could only cross his fingers Arthur would listen. What if he wouldn't? What if Merlin didn't bring his message across? No, Merlin wouldn't do that. He might not like Mordred, but he was an honest man. It felt like forever, his hands getting clammy while he tried to stay calm...

And finally the door opened and Merlin's head popped from around it. "The king will see you now."

"Thank you, Merlin," Mordred replied, trying to keep a very neutral tone of voice that would not betray his nerves.

The king and queen Guinevere were sitting at their large polished table, while Merlin got busy serving them breakfast and filling their goblets with water. Breakfast looked like a feast to the eye, although none of the knights and people of Camelot were complaining about the food. Life was good in the citadel and lower town. Mordred only had one small slice of old bread, and his mouth was watering, looking at the soft bread, cheese and ham. The fruit, the slices of cold pork. He even started to salivate smelling the bowl of porridge in front of the queen.

"Sire." Mordred bowed, and in doing so, his nerves slowly eased away.

"Mordred, you're up early, everything all right?"

"Not really, there is something urgent I need to discuss with you."

Arthur looked up from his breakfast plate, frowning while Mordred felt very uncomfortable all of a sudden under that scrutinizing gaze. Merlin, standing next to his king, also had an open curious look on his face, making Mordred even more aware of the place he was standing.

"Merlin, can you leave us please?" Arthur asked, not quite ordering the servant.

"As you wish, Sire." Merlin didn't argue, didn't look back when he walked to the door, but Mordred could see from his whole stance he wasn't too happy about having been sent away.

The queen stood up from the table, smiling at Mordred, and a very warm smile it was. It reminded Mordred about the way Morgana used to be, and he felt a pang of regret again. Guinevere was a wonderful caring woman, who was always very supportive of her husband, but also really cared about all the people living in Camelot. "I was about to get dressed in the ante chamber, you two can talk."

Arthur gave her a small nod, and Mordred could feel the love for her radiating from his eyes. Maybe one day he would find someone who loved him this much. A long time ago there had been someone, but they had lost contact, and Mordred didn't know if he would ever see her again.

"Do you want to have some breakfast?" Arthur asked, surprising Mordred.

Breakfast with the king? Now, there was a thought. He knew he couldn't take Arthur up on the offer though. It wasn't proper, and if there was one thing he'd learned from his short experiences of being a knight, one was not to sit down with the king for a meal, no matter how tempting the food smelled or looked, Mordred would always honour the knights codes, the knights rules.

"I have to decline, Sire." He bowed respectfully again, but quickly stopped when Arthur waved his hand for him to stand up straight.

"As you wish. Now tell me, what is the urgent matter you wish to discuss?"

"A friend of mine risked his life to visit me last night." Mordred knew he shouldn't waste any more time and dive into the matter straight away. "He overheard a group of mercenaries in the forest of Ascetir talk about a magical artefact that can destroy whole armies and flatten castles. It is called the Dragon's Horn, and they are searching for it, wanting to find it, and use it to destroy Camelot. They specifically said Camelot, and my friend knows I am a knight here now, and came to me with this information."

Mordred couldn't tell if Arthur was actually convinced by the story. It wasn't a very solid story of course, but it was the best he could come up with, without giving information about everything being a dream. He held his breath, waiting for a reaction. Any reaction.

"Who's that friend, Mordred, and how did he get into the citadel? Is he trustworthy?"

"I cannot tell you his name, Sire, as he is part of a druid clan I once lived with. But I would lay down my life for him. I know he would never betray me." Mordred silently wished there had been such a man, someone who he could have trusted with his life and the other way around. Like Merlin and Arthur. It hurt he didn't have that privilege, never had after his father died.

"But Camelot? I've never been friends with the druids, so why warn us?" Arthur asked.

"Times are changing. They know you're making an effort."

"Yes, but some still wish me dead."

"If those mercenaries, or even Morgana, get their hands on that horn it will have terrible consequences, Sire. At least that is what my friend told me." Mordred was walking a very fine line and he knew it. "The druids would rather see it destroyed or in Camelot's vaults than to see Morgana misuse it."

"Really?"

"Morgana misuses her magic, and I almost failed to see this." Finally, this wasn't a lie.

"I'm sorry about that."

"Me too."

They seemed to share a private memory there, when Arthur stood up, walked towards him to lay a hand on his shoulder, a gesture he came to crave, almost. "Thank you, Mordred, for bringing me this important information. I will look into it further, I promise."

"Thank you, my lord." Mordred felt a heavy load being lifted off his shoulders. Arthur would at least look into it, maybe even do something about it soon. He had to be patient, wait and perhaps he would even be allowed to find the Dragon's Horn for his king.

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

"Tell me, Merlin. Have you ever heard of the Dragon's Horn?"

Arthur looked up from munching on a piece of bread while he studied a pile of old maps, spread out on the table. The rest of his breakfast was untouched where Merlin had left it earlier, before Mordred had requested an audience with the king. Guinevere had joined her husband, and was eating porridge. Merlin did have a hard time understanding why a queen would want to eat porridge instead of freshly baked bread, but she had told him one day it reminded her of home, and that did make sense.

"Gaius told me about the Dragon's Horn once, yes." Merlin wondered why anyone the likes of Arthur would have an interest in this magical item. He'd only heard bits and pieces from Gaius about these horns, but had never read up on it himself. He suddenly regretted he hadn't, because as a dragonlord, he should know stuff like this. "It is said in the legend, this magical item can produce the sound of a roaring dragon, loud enough to annihilate entire armies and make the earth shake."

Gwen took a sip of water and frowned, looking at her husband. "Why would you be so interested in a magical item of a sudden?" She asked what Merlin was thinking, bless her. There was a worried tone in her voice.

"Very good." Arthur ignored his wife, which wasn't very wise, his gaze fully fixed on Merlin. He sounded slightly impressed, but did his best to hide it. "In the wrong hands, such an object could destroy Camelot in an instant, and I don't even want to think what Morgana would do with it, should she obtain it."

"Morgana?" Gwen gulped. "How did you hear about this... horn?"

"Yes, Arthur, how did _you_ hear about it?" Merlin asked.

"Mordred."

"Mordred?" Merlin almost choked on his own saliva, but he quickly recovered, trying to show interest while he could see Arthur wasn't convinced by the way he lifted his brows. So to distract him a little, Merlin started to clean the breakfast table, his eyes fixed on his chore, avoiding Arthur's glance. He could hear Gwen chuckle behind him, ever so perceptive.

"He came to me with urgency, as he believes Camelot might be in danger."

Yes, Merlin thought, it would be if Mordred was involved. It still puzzled him why Arthur would trust another man so quickly. Yes, Mordred had saved his life, but how many times had Merlin done the same? All right, he knew this wasn't fair, as most of the time Arthur had been completely clueless about the 'saving him' part. But still. He'd known Arthur for many years, and a boy like Mordred walks in, and he knights him? Trusts him?

Of course Merlin had Gaius' words in his mind. Mordred should be given the benefit of the doubt. But Arthur trusting him so easily when it came to any dangerous situation to Camelot? Was he totally out of his mind? This could be a trap with a major T.

"And why would Mordred think that?" he asked as politely and neutrally as possible, seeing Gwen looked rather interested in this as well. Mordred had spoken to Arthur alone then, that was clear, or she would have known. "Where did he get the information?"

"A druid friend came to him in confidence. He'd heard mercenaries talk about it. They are searching for the horn. He wouldn't tell me his friend's name, but I think we should give this person a chance, as he risked his life to bring the information to Mordred."

"Doesn't mean that these mercenaries will ever find it."

"True, but if they do find it, we're all in grave danger. I can't have that. The only place a magical object would be safe, would be under lock and key in our vaults, or maybe even better... destroyed," Arthur concluded, and it already sounded very final to Merlin's ears.

"Arthur, please listen to me." Merlin, of course, had a really bad feeling about this. Why would Mordred not tell Arthur more about his 'so called' friend? Why was Mordred so worried about Arthur and Camelot's safety? He knew raising the question whether Mordred could be trusted would probably fall on deaf ears, so he needed another reason to call this to a halt. "This horn has been hidden for many centuries. They say it is guarded by a great dragon. If you do manage to claim it from said dragon, and lose it to someone like Morgana, it would be like with the cup of life all over again. You remember what happened there, right? You lost it."

"I am better prepared for such a quest now, Merlin. And I will repeat it one more time. The only place for such a dangerous magical artefact is deep within our vaults or no place at all." Arthur stood up from his place at the large polished table, to show him the conversation was over. "So, are you willing to do some more research on it for me, about its power and its location?"

"What if it's no longer in the place it's supposed to be?"

"Well, I guess we know for sure if we go there."

"It might still be guarded."

"Nonsense, all dragons are dead."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"What was that?"

"I said, I think I heard someone at the door."

Arthur looked distracted while gazing at the door. "Really? I didn't hear anything, are you sure you're not going deaf, Merlin?"

Gwen giggled, while Merlin rolled his eyes, not answering the rhetoric question, while he walked over to Arthur's desk to check the list of the kingly chores of the day. The list was as long as his lower arm, and even with his own list of chores, he never envied Arthur having to listen to endless speeches, and sit through boring meetings. If Merlin needed to accompany Arthur, he would always do his extreme best not to fall asleep where he stood. He wasn't always successful.

"Are you certain there is no dragon, Arthur?" Gwen asked, directing a worried look at Merlin.

"Of course I am, Guinevere, it's all but impossible a dragon remains to guard it after all these years. I conquered the last great dragon, remember?" Arthur kissed her lightly on the cheek, no doubt to reassure her everything was fine. But was it? Merlin wasn't so sure.

"Well?" Arthur directed the question at him, one that he really didn't want to answer, as this was insane and dangerous and more insane.

"Well what?"

"Research, Merlin, research?" Arthur grabbed the to-do list from Merlin's hands, read it over quickly, made a face and sat down at his desk. "It's not that I have time for it myself today. A meeting with the lady Jillian and lord Matthews? That's going to be fun." The list was dropped on his desk, as he pointed a finger at Merlin. "Camelot is in danger, we need to find that horn, whatever it takes."

"I can't convince you to leave it where it is then?"

Arthur didn't answer him, instead he seemed to be considering something. It was obvious he already had the plan in his head, and all Merlin would be able to do was go along and make sure he stayed out of trouble. As if that ever happened. The coming days would be days without a warm bed and good food. Merlin hated going on these quests. He knew the knights were always eager, though. He wondered what was wrong with them at times.

Guinevere also stood up from the breakfast table, and she walked over to Arthur, kissing him lightly on the lips. "Are you really sure this is a good plan?"

"And now you're questioning it as well?" Arthur scowled, but gazed up at her in way that made Merlin's teeth hurt. He was happy for the couple, of course, but he didn't need to see all the tokens of affection, all day long. It got really annoying.

"Just saying," Gwen said. "This could be a very dangerous quest, and I will be the one waiting again for your safe return. It's not really what I had planned becoming queen, you know?"

"I will come home again, I promise."

"You better." She kissed him on the tip of his nose this time, making Merlin clench his teeth once more. "I've got some things to do in the lower town. I'll see you at lunch."

When she left the room, Arthur walked over to the maps spread out all over the table, and started to go through them again, even though he didn't seem certain what he was looking for. "I was thinking of going on this quest with a small party. You, me, Gwaine and Mordred. This way we might not attract attention and can easily hide when we do encounter mercenaries."

Small party? Definitely not a good plan, and taking young Mordred along was even worse. What if something actually happened, would they let Mordred guard their backs? Merlin wasn't convinced, at all. He'd rather take someone trustworthy like Leon or Percival. Mordred still hadn't done anything to deserve his trust, apart from saving Arthur. He could have alternate motives and this quest would have them walking into major trouble. "Why are you so keen to take Mordred along? He's only just improved his riding skills, maybe he's not ready for such a dangerous mission?"

"I think he is."

"You think?" Merlin quipped. "Are you certain your head won't explode?"

"Very funny, _Merlin_."

Merlin could see Arthur was trying to hide a grin, his face all stern when he looked at him, and Merlin knew he wasn't going to like what the man had to say. In a way they were much the same. If they had set their minds on something, they would see it through to the end.

"Mordred will come, and that'll be the end of it. Now, don't you have some research to do, and perhaps some packing if we want to leave within the next day or two?"

No matter how much he scowled, Arthur had made up his mind. Merlin's task was laid out for him. Find the location of the Dragons Horn, keep a close eye on Mordred, and make sure to come home safely. He already knew Gaius wouldn't be pleased about this quest. The man believed in leaving these things alone, and Merlin could only agree with him this time.

Merlin and Gaius had their noses buried in the ancient books and scrolls Gaius had ordered Merlin to get from Camelot's library. The pile was huge, and the dust had made Merlin sneeze, which was a huge annoyance to Geoffrey of Monmouth, who was really getting old.

Gaius had indeed been displeased with the idea of them searching for this magical horn. He pointedly reminded Merlin not only of the cup of life again, but also of the dragon's egg. The two things could have stayed where they were, and no one would have ever found them. Merlin, of course, had explained to Gaius, at least ten times, Arthur wouldn't listen to him. When did he ever listen to him anyway?

In the end, Gaius had promised to help him do some research, to make sure he was well prepared. After several long hours of roaming through all these dusty old books, trying to stay awake, Merlin was slowly dozing off. Sunset had been some time ago, they had lit candles, making Merlin even drowsier, and it didn't feel as if they would be successful any time soon.

"Aha!" Gaius suddenly slammed his fist on the table, startling Merlin enough that he veered up, accidently slamming his knee into the table.

"Ouch, Gaius!"

"I found what we were looking for. Listen," Gaius said, while Merlin rubbed both his eyes and his sore knee. "The Dragon's Horn can be found in the abandoned mines of Huail, located near the sea of Meredor. It is said to be guarded by a dragon, so no one will ever be able to claim it."

"That's not a very old scroll you're reading there."

"No, this one was obtained by Uther from a druid clan, when the Great Purge was in full force. He asked me to study these scrolls and make certain they didn't contain important information."

"The location of the horn wasn't important?"

"Oh, it was, but you know I firmly believe in leaving these things alone, remember?"

"Ah, so you lied to your king?"

"Not exactly. I just left out a couple of sentences."

"Clever."

"I knew I'd read information on the Dragon's Horn in one of these. But I also found some older information in this book over here." Gaius beckoned Merlin to stand next to him, so he could read it for himself. "The horn comes from the most important dragon that has ever lived, and passed on to dragons and their dragonlords for generations. To them, it was a token of strength, given to them by their ancestors."

"Most important dragon that has ever lived?"

"Yes, his name was Faranth, the last golden dragon. The horn is said to have a golden mouth piece, made from Faranth's scales." Gaius looked at him, a worried look on his face. "That is all I can find in the books. I am certain, though, Kilgharrah can tell you more, as he seems to play a huge part in this tale. The mines might actually be his nest?"

"Nest?"

"His home."

"Ah, I always wondered where he would fly off to after speaking to me," Merlin mused, when a troubling thought hit him. "So, if the horn falls into human hands, it does have the ability to crumble Camelot's walls, right?"

"Oh yes, definitely."

"But why place this important horn inside the mines of Huail?" Merlin asked, wondering what was so special about the place a dragon would choose it. The mines weren't too far from Gedref, a holy magical place. Would that have something to do with it?

"I don't know, Merlin." Gaius pulled up his shoulders, reading through the pages of the book once more. "Maybe the dragon can answer a question like this one as well?"

"If he doesn't speak in riddles."

"That should be no problem for a great warlock."

"Oh, now, you have no idea." Merlin sniggered, then felt himself sobering at the thought of having to go on a journey to the sea of Meredor, and into a dark clammy mine. It wasn't a great prospect, at all. The thought of having Mordred go along made his jaw clench. "Do you think Mordred wants the horn? Or maybe Morgana?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Mordred was the one who came to Arthur with the story about it and the danger to Camelot, and Arthur, the clot pole that he is, believes him of course."

"Why shouldn't he?" Gaius let out a deep sigh, and his brow lifted in that oh so familiar gesture of disapproval. "Think, Merlin, if he would have wanted the horn, he would not have come to Arthur."

"Hmm, maybe, but what if it's a trap, for Arthur?"

"Only one way to find out." Gaius walked towards him and laid his hand on Merlin's shoulder, squeezing it softly and in a very encouraging way. "Make sure you come home safe, Merlin."

"Of course." Merlin released a tense breath of air while he stood up, moving over to his old friend, giving him a tight hug. "You know me."

"Let's get some supper and some sleep. There is packing to be done tomorrow."

"Yes, of course."

Although Merlin didn't plan on sleeping much that night, as there was only one way to really find out more about the Dragon's Horn and its history. And somehow Merlin knew, or rather, he felt he needed this information to succeed in this quest.

Darkness had fallen over Camelot once more. The wind in the trees gave way to the arrival of the Great Dragon, and Merlin was still overcome with awe every time the enormous magical creature landed on the ground, with grace and dignity. It seemed all but impossible for a dragon to do so, but Merlin had learned a lot about them in the last years, and he was still learning every day. He hoped Kilgharrah would be around for a very long time to come, to guide him if he needed it.

The dragon bowed in respect for a moment, gazing calmly into Merlin's eyes. "What can I do for you tonight, young warlock?"

"What do you know about the Dragon's Horn?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Mordred had a premonition about the horn destroying Camelot, so Arthur's is ready to go on a quest to find it, and we've traced its whereabouts to Huail." Merlin could see Kilgharrah seemed a little taken aback, as far as a dragon could muster that look, so he quickly pressed on. "So, I wonder if the location is correct, because why would a magical object like that be placed in a mine?"

"And Arthur Pendragon is determined to see this through?"

"Oh yes."

"That is most disturbing, even more so because the information came from the druid boy." The dragon bowed somewhat lower, almost as if he was about to whisper. "He cannot be trusted."

"I know that, but what if he's telling the truth? What if the horn falls into the wrong hands?"

"It will not."

"How can you be certain?"

"Because I am."

"Oh well, that's very helpful, thank you."

Kilgharrah did a dragon's imitation of a large human sigh, then he gazed into the air for a long time, as if he was recalling memories from long ago. Reliving them, just as every human would do. The quietness of it was weird, and Merlin decided to cough into his hand. He still needed to know more about the horn before going on this quest.

"What would you like to ask?" Kilgharrah asked so suddenly, that Merlin choked and started to cough for real this time. He could have sworn the dragon was grinning down at him. In fact, it wouldn't surprise him anymore.

"Is it true the sound of the horn can flatten entire armies? And is it guarded by a dragon? And, why place it in the mine of Huail?" There, he asked what he wasn't sure about. Things that could be of importance. And, of course, the last question was the same as before.

"As you already know, the lands to the east side of the sea of Meredor are sacred and magical." The dragon blinked a couple of times, as if he was trying to figure out where to start. "Before the Great Purge, these were our mating grounds. This was where female dragons would lay their eggs. The Dragon's Horn belonged to Faranth, the golden dragon and my ancestor. The horn is very important to us. It brings strength and destiny to every new born dragon when they come into contact with its magical abilities."

"Aithusa?"

"Yes, young warlock, I have brought the young Aithusa into contact with the Dragon's Horn as well, before she chose her own path, and the one of the witch." Kilgharrah all but snarled the name he always used for Morgana. "It will be my task to guide you on this quest."

"But you can't, if Arthur even sees you, then he'll know you weren't killed by his sword. Which will also mean he'll ask me all sorts of unpleasant questions about it."

Kilgharrah didn't seem fazed by his worries. "That is your concern. And to answer your second question, yes, the horn is guarded by a dragon. Me."

"It's too dangerous. What if you get hurt?"

"Your concern touches my heart, Merlin, but I can take care of myself." Kilgharrah's voice went from amused to very serious. "The horn can only be removed and hidden by a dragon and his dragon lord, and I believe that would be us?"

"Removed by a dragonlord?" The memory of his father always hit him in the gut whenever he heard the word dragonlord. Of course, he was the dragonlord now, but it always brought back sad memories of loss.

"Your father was the one who removed it from its last sacred place, near the labyrinth of Gedref. The keeper of the unicorns guided him there. Your father knew about the abandoned mine, and as it was close to Gedref and protected by pitfalls and decoy tunnels, we decided to hide it there."

"But why did you move it in the first place?"

"Its last place was compromised when humans started to cut down the large trees of the forest near Gedref, to build homes. Humans travel to the ends of the Earth to occupy and destroy its magic and beauty. If they would have found the horn, the land would have been in peril. The power of the horn can indeed annihilate entire civilisations. Now it needs to be moved again by us."

"I know."

"It will be a grand task, Merlin, and a dangerous one."

A brilliant idea occurred while he thought about this. Why put them all in danger when they could move the horn right now? "Why can't we just fly to the mines, and get the horn to safety?"

Kilgharrah seemed to consider it for a moment. "Because I must first search for a new hiding place. This is a dangerous quest all on its own and will take time."

"But I can keep the horn until you find one."

"It is not that simple," the dragon answered, and if he would have had eyebrows, he would have raised them for sure. "You will have the ability to feel the horn's magical powers when you are in the proximity of it. But so does the druid boy. If you keep it, he will know, and that must be avoided at all cost."

"But how do we make sure I find it before he does when we're in the mine, if he can feel it?"

"I will think of something."

"Oh, that's a relief." A grand task is what Kilgharrah named it. He only had to make sure Arthur, Gwaine or Mordred wouldn't see the dragon, get the horn, give it to Kilgharrah and get out of the mine again without Arthur knowing who took the horn away. Oh, and watch out for traps also.

Of course if he could reach the horn and hopefully Kilgharrah before Arthur did, he wouldn't be the wiser. But that meant he had to get separated from the others, on purpose? It didn't sit well with him, at all. Grand task, grand disaster probably. "So, what about Arthur? If he knows you're alive, he'll hunt you down."

"I do not think he will. The young Pendragon is not like his father."

"Will you risk it?"

"I have faith in the once and future king, and I believe you have it, too?"

"Yes, but..." The idea of Arthur actually seeing Kilgharrah made him swallow. But maybe there would be a way to prevent this. He would do anything to make that happen, would even go as far as knocking the king out if need be. The dragon had faith in Arthur, but Merlin wasn't so sure he himself was there yet.

"Good."

"And what about Mordred?"

"The druid boy is of no concern. If he gets in our way, he is doomed."

Merlin couldn't help but shake his head at the comment. Sometimes; well, most of the times it felt as if Kilgharrah only saw things in black and white. If someone was bad, someone was bad, and there was no doubt in the dragon's mind this person could not have a tiny bit of goodness inside. They could have a side to them in need to be nurtured, to stop them from choosing the wrong path. Merlin had made a mistake with Morgana, but was he doing the same to Mordred?

"Mordred should be my responsibility, only mine."

"If you are certain of that." Kilgharrah bowed his head, but Merlin could see clearly it was more in a mocking sort of way. As if the dragon was playing him, again. Well, not this time. He would make sure of it. This time it was up to him, and even though this burden was hard to carry, he knew he would be the one to carry it, not a magical creature with seemingly no moral values.

"I am certain," Merlin answered, clear and sharp.

They would be ready to leave the next day, if Arthur wanted to. Merlin had no doubt he did. But this would not only be Arthur's quest, it was also his. To keep an eye on Mordred, and to make sure Arthur and the Dragon's Horn were going to be safe.

The afternoon of their departure was cool and bleak. Clouds were racing each other, and it looked like it could rain at any moment. Preparations for travelling had taken most of the morning, and they had packed enough supplies to last at least a week. Not that it would take them this long. The Valley of the Kings was about a day's walk from Camelot. And they travelled by horse, so to reach Gedref would take them two whole days of hard riding, maybe even less.

Mordred finished pushing his last supply pack into the horse's saddlebags, and there was an exciting sort of fluttering inside his chest. Arthur had trusted him enough to go on this dangerous quest, plus he had invited him to come along. It was more than Mordred could have hoped for, and he couldn't help a smile from escaping while he climbed onto his chestnut mare. Even the lousy weather and Merlin's occasional glances couldn't temper his spirits, when Arthur, Merlin, Sir Gwaine and he finally galloped out of the main gate.

The sense of freedom and belonging to a group of people who cared about each other, lasted a good couple of hours. After that his bottom began to hurt, his knees and fingers where cramping up, he was cold and wet after riding through a shower, and when the sun broke out again, his hair dripped down his neck. It was really uncomfortable, but that wasn't even the worst thing. He never realized quests could be so boring, tedious even. After a while he was dozing off in the saddle, trying to count trees to stay awake. Gwaine was chattering away next to him, which made him even sleepier. The voice of the knight was a constant buzzing in the depths of his mind. He'd stopped being polite and paying attention a long time ago.

Mordred had no idea how much time he'd spent in the saddle, with only a few short stops to eat and rest. Looking up at the sky he was surprised to see it was already getting dark, and he hoped Arthur would call a halt for the day very soon. It felt like they had travelled forever already.

Of course he had travelled a lot before, but never like this, sitting on a horse all day. The druid camps he was raised in were always on the move, but always by foot and never for days on end. And when his search for Morgana had led him to Ismere, it had again been on foot. Mordred doubted riding would ever become his favourite thing to do. Gwaine on the other hand, he loved it, and he didn't pass an opportunity to tease him a little on his adversity against riding or horses in general. Horses didn't seem to like Mordred either, so it was mutual.

"Let's make camp." Arthur held in his reins and turned towards them. "It's been a long day, and tomorrow we might reach our destination if all goes well. Gwaine, would you please assist Mordred off his horse, he looks like he's about to fall off."

Gwaine chuckled, and Mordred could see clearly on his face he was about to joke around on his expense. He liked Gwaine, the knight was straight forward and loyal, a funny drunk and a ladies' man as well, if all the rumours were true. He hadn't been around long enough to confirm this, but it didn't matter. If he had a problem, any problem, Gwaine was there to help. Improving his riding skills with the knight's guidance was one of those things.

"I'm all right." Mordred jumped off his horse, feeling dreadfully exhausted, and as if someone was playing a game with him, he slipped and landed on his backside in a patch of high grass. Thank goodness it wasn't mud this time, although this was very embarrassing indeed. A knight of Camelot landing on his behind, this would bring their reputation down a notch, or two.

"I can see that," Arthur answered while Gwaine took Mordred's hand and pulled him up, a bright grin on his face, while he started to dust off Mordred's cloak slowly and deliberately. "Seems like you're not the only clumsy one around here, Merlin."

"It seems so, Sire," Merlin muttered, his face dark and brooding, seemingly not in the mood to joke.

Not only Mordred, but the others also seemed to pick up on his mood straight away. Merlin might be a powerful warlock, and keeping a dangerous secret, but as he had observed before, it was all but impossible for him to hide how he truly felt about things, or people for that matter. Mordred wasn't stupid, but neither were Arthur and Gwaine.

"Oh, what's the matter, Merlin, missing Gaius' food already?" Arthur asked, while they all led their horses to a patch of grass, with a row of very dense bushes to shelter them all from the wind.

"Something like that," Merlin answered, and when Mordred raised his eyebrows, staring straight at him, he gazed back with that familiar stare almost piercing Mordred's soul. Like there was no secret to hide from the great Emrys. He didn't have anything to hide except his magic, but Merlin knew about the magic, so Mordred wondered what always unnerved him about it.

"Aren't we bright and happy today," Arthur replied, which made Mordred smile. A smile he hid behind his hand, although he feared Merlin would have seen it. And what if he had? Mordred reprimanded himself for it, because it wasn't important after all. Or was it?

The sun was setting fast, and the fire and the meal Merlin had made warmed Mordred, making him drowsy again while he listened to Gwaine telling stories of his adventures before becoming a knight. They were always amusing, sometimes there was a lesson to be learned from them, but Mordred was so tired tonight all he wanted to do was sleep. To forget about the quest, and forget about another day in the saddle.

He didn't want to be the first one to go to sleep, though. Maybe he needed to stand watch. He knew his duties as a knight, and this was one of them. He feared he wouldn't be able to stay awake, but maybe if he splashed some cold water from his water skin over his face?

"I'll take first watch." Merlin spoke up, as if he could read Mordred's mind.

"Yes, that's fine," Arthur answered. "Let's all get some sleep, long day tomorrow."

Mordred felt utterly grateful for his warm woollen blanket when he crawled under it. His head rested on a saddle, laid down on the cold forest floor, and before he could count to ten, he was fast asleep.

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

Gazing at the dancing flames of the fire, Merlin's thoughts were jumping all over the place, and giving him no rest at all. No peace of mind. Going on this quest to find and destroy the Dragon's Horn was one thing, but taking Mordred along, instead of another trusty knight? Merlin wanted to scream in frustration at Arthur sometimes. It seemed so simple. Gaius and Arthur wanted him to give Mordred a chance, so why couldn't he? Trying might lead to something positive after all? The idea made him release a tense sigh, while he shifted on the large log he was sitting on, warming his hands by the fire.

The air around was silent and thick, as Kilgharrah's words weighed heavy on his mind once more. Of course the dragon wasn't always right. At least that was what Merlin kept telling himself lately. But when he tried to recall if Kilgharrah had been wrong in the past, he couldn't remember such an event. And of course this time he also had the vision of a seer to throw him off balance. The seer couldn't be all knowing, no one was. And that was what Merlin kept telling himself as well, over and over, when the image of Arthur dying by Mordred's blade assaulted his dreams. It was never going to be easy, and he knew it made him into someone hopeless and maybe even resigned. He really hated that someone.

"Merlin?"

Gwaine's voice came from behind him, pulling him out of his contemplation, making him aware the others were sleeping nearby, and he was supposed to stand watch. Not as if anything would pass him by. His magic always made him extremely aware of his surroundings, and in this place all it could sense were sleeping birds, mice skirmishing around and the occasional hedgehog.

"Gwaine, I thought you were asleep, no need to stand watch just yet." Merlin really didn't want to talk right now, he wasn't the best of company and he knew it.

"I know." A pair of dark brown eyes peered down, before the man in question sat down on the log, right next to him, taking a bite out of an apple that he'd dug up from their supplies. Merlin always made sure he brought some for his friend. "What's wrong, mate?"

"Wrong? What do you mean?"

Gwaine let out a snort, and slapped Merlin on the back, almost making him yelp. Gwaine did that to people, startling them, but also seeing straight into their hearts. "Don't play a game with me, Merlin. I'm your friend, I know you. There's been something eating away at you for a while now, since we came back from Ismere. You've changed."

"We all change."

"You've always been open and kind towards all kinds of outcasts, even me. You were the only friend I had before I became a knight of Camelot. You're my oldest friend, actually, and seeing you like this..."

"Like what?" Merlin couldn't help but snap, knowing exactly where Gwaine was heading, but also fiercely feeling it was none of his business. That it wasn't anything the knight could help him with, so why bother him with his deepest thoughts and secrets? He meant well, of course, but there were things that couldn't be discussed, not even with friends.

"You practically bite Mordred's head off, while he does his best to be your friend."

"You don't understand."

"No, I don't," Gwaine answered, looking at him with a seriousness that made Merlin swallow, as he hadn't seen it very often. It made him want to confide in Gwaine so much it almost hurt. "So, enlighten me."

"I... I can't."

"Let me get this straight. We're on a dangerous quest, and we should all rely on each other, while you seem to dislike Mordred so much, you might not want to protect his back. How's that?"

"I will protect him."

"Really?"

"And you said you knew me?"

Gwaine sighed and gazed into the fire. There was silence for a moment, which actually unnerved Merlin more than the knight's normal chatter. When Gwaine finally looked at him, there was a rare sadness in his eyes. "Lately, I'm not so sure..."

Merlin bit the inside of his lip, feeling lost for a moment. He wanted to say so much, but nothing came out. He felt a pang of hurt at Gwaine's words, but of course there was truth in them. Leave it up to Gwaine to bring out a stir of emotions he didn't want to share.

"Here." Gwaine pulled a small earth-coloured bottle from his belt and handed it to Merlin before standing up. "I think you might need this more than I do."

Merlin felt relieved and guilty at the same time when the knight didn't question him any further and walked away from him, munching on the apple. He cursed his destiny that it was all but impossible to have a really good and honest conversation with any of his friends. On days and quests like these, he thoroughly missed Lancelot, the only knight who really knew about him, and who had been there for him unconditionally, knowing who he was. Maybe one day he would feel confident enough to confess it all to Gwaine, but at the moment he felt like a big coward, fearing to only stir up trouble for the knight if he did so.

He opened the bottle, sniffing its content. It smelled like alcohol, as he expected, but also like nothing he'd ever smelled before. Carefully taking a sip, the taste came as a surprise. It was a mixture of wine, herbs and spices. What stood out was the taste of marjoram, but Merlin also tasted cloves, sage, even cardamom and honey. He had heard of spiced wine before, but never actually tasted it, and he wondered where Gwaine had gotten it from, as it wasn't very common. Taking another sip he felt his insides warming up.

Gazing over to the place where Mordred was fast asleep, Merlin suddenly felt regret. There was the one knight who wasn't so unlike him. Also hiding his magic and trying to fit in. They would have become good friends weren't it for that vision. Now Merlin felt this was never going to happen, his very soul would always repel against it. Pulling him back if he did try to make an effort. A game played by a higher power, and they were only pawns, the both of them.

Taking another sip, he watched the last glowing embers of the fire as it slowly died out. He should probably try and get some sleep and wake Arthur for watch duty. There was a long day ahead of them, but they would definitely reach the mines tomorrow, if nothing extraordinary happened.

Putting the bottle in his pocket he silently thanked Gwaine for being around. One day he would repay the knight for always having his back, even while he knew Merlin wasn't telling him the truth all the time.

Morning came early, a sunny one, which raised all of their spirits. After a quick breakfast, they made their way south west, towards the sea of Meredor. Arthur, in a good mood, hoped their good fortune would last, at least until they were at the mines of Huail. The only two things he worried about were young Mordred and Merlin. Arthur had wanted to put Mordred on guard, but the boy had been so utterly exhausted after a day's ride, he couldn't find it within his heart to wake him up. It had hit him there and then it might not have been such a good idea to bring Mordred along.

And observing Merlin's downright guarded state, all Arthur wanted to do was knock some sense into his servant, to be a bit more friendly and open towards the new knight. Their earlier talk about this should have had more effect. But when was Merlin ever listening to him anyway?

It was late in the afternoon when Arthur raised his hand to stop his friends, holding in the reins of his horse. They weren't far from the mines now, and he wondered if this really was the place to find the Dragon's Horn. He truly believed it to be a dangerous magical object, and even though Merlin didn't agree, he knew the safest place for it would be the vaults of Camelot. He wouldn't make the same mistake as with the cup of life though. If they found it, he would try and destroy it immediately, without hesitation, and if this failed, the vaults it was.

They were situated on a narrow path, high trees on a hillside to their right, and a deep gorge filled with trees to their left. Not a safe place to lose your nerve, so he held the reins tightly meanwhile looking down into the gorge to find the path he knew had to be there. When his father had been here many years ago, he'd made a map of the area, and if this map was still correct, he should be standing on top of it.

"The mines were dug out by a man named Huail, near the cliffs of the sea of Meredor," Arthur turned around on his horse. "The miners got their water supply from the ocean, but don't ask me how they managed to get it all the way down there in the gorge for mining."

"You know a way to get down there?" Merlin asked.

"Yes, if I read the map correctly, there should be a path nearby."

"So, you don't know for sure?"

"I know for sure."

"Doesn't sound like it."

" _Merlin."_ If Merlin had stood next to him, he would have slapped him on the head. He wasn't truly irritated, though, as it was good to hear his friend baiting him again. He didn't want Merlin to change, as he felt comfortable with the way things were between them. No matter what happened, no one would ever come between them.

"I think we should dismount and lead the horses by hand, Sire." Mordred's voice came from behind Merlin, who stiffened up, and the banter was gone, to Arthur's regret. The boy was right, of course, as the track was getting narrower and steep here, and it was a better way of searching for the path to take them down to the entrance of the mine.

"I wonder why in the world a dragon's horn was hidden inside a mine, of all places," Arthur mused out loud this time, while they searched for a way into the gorge. The brush was thick, and the rocks going down were covered in mud and moss.

"Do you really think a dragon might be guarding it?" Gwaine asked, squinting his eyes, and the king knew he'd been talking to Merlin. How would he know about this otherwise?

"The dragons were all slain during the Great Purge." Arthur said it once more, but with less confidence than when he'd been sitting in the safety of his own chambers. What if a dragon had escaped? Morgana had a dragon, although that was a young one. Arthur still wondered where it came from. Merlin was either ignoring his dragon statement this time, or he was too busy searching for a way down. Arthur couldn't tell.

"There." Merlin pointed, and they all followed his direction. "The way down."

Searching for a way down then, Arthur concluded, while he gazed at the steep slope that no doubt led to the mine. Great. Time to take the lead once more and make sure they all arrived at the bottom in one piece.

The overgrown path, or more like a precarious track, led down, and it didn't take long to realize they'd have to leave their horses behind. They all took part of their supplies in rucksacks before making their way further down. There were flat rocks, crumbling in places, shaped like steps carved into the hillside, placed there by human hands. This would definitely have taken many years of labour and hardship to build.

The old abandoned mine had once been blooming, even though it had belonged to a man who was greedy, and who wanted nothing more than to profit from everyone around him. Huail had been a bandit, although he would call himself a trader and businessman. He'd gotten in King Uther's way, and Arthur, of course, knew that his father had been a force to reckon with. Uther's knights had torn the place down, and Huail had been hanged in Camelot for all his crimes.

Arthur really had to stop wondering why a magical object like a dragon's horn was hidden in a mine. He may not know much about magical objects, he did know about this mine, as his father had told him the tale of Huail and his quest for riches. His father could not have known about the horn, or he would have pursued it when the Great Purge began. So, the horn must have been placed here after the mine was torn down, but before his father's relentless hunt on magic itself began?

It wouldn't be easy to get inside again, or to find the right path. It was a maze in there, and a wrong turn could have you go around in circles or even worse, you got lost and signed your death sentence.

At least they were prepared and had brought enough torches, flint, steel and kindle to light them. Merlin had also thought of bringing charcoal sticks, so they could mark the walls. His friend and servant might act like an idiot most of the time, but Arthur knew he was in fact very smart. He hated to admit it, but sometimes even smarter than he was. A long time ago he might have felt intimidated by Merlin, or even Guinevere for that matter. He would not have believed servants could show the slightest bit of intelligence.

His father had always told him; 'never get to close to a servant, Arthur'. And look at him, he'd married one. Sometimes he wondered if his father would have approved of the way he ruled the kingdom. He certainly still missed his guidance at times, although he had friends to back him up now. They were loyal and he could trust them. Even young, likable Mordred.

They slowly made their way down the steep path, on the lookout for slippery spots of moss, and concentrating staying on their two feet. It was certainly a long way down if you fell, and Arthur shuddered involuntary at the thought. He was a warrior, a knight and the king of Camelot, but heights didn't exactly agree with him. They always made him a bit light headed.

As if someone had heard his thoughts, he lost his footing, staggered, his arms swaying to keep his balance when a strong, steady hand held his arm and he came to an abrupt standstill. It was Merlin, right behind him.

"Thanks," Arthur muttered, angry at himself for not being more careful.

"Are you all right?" It was Gwaine's voice. The knight had taken the rear when they had descended. There was only worry to be heard in that voice, and it still surprised Arthur at times Gwaine had this caring, friendly side to him. Gwaine was mostly associated by him with too much ale, too many women and too many pranks. But, the man was always there when you needed him. He was a good loyal knight. Arthur would trust him with his life. He would also trust Merlin with his life for that matter, even though he would never say it out loud, to any of them.

"And I save your neck again," Merlin whispered in his ear before letting go of his arm.

"I know, I know, you have many talents."

"I keep telling you." Merlin's face showed a goofy grin.

"Merlin?"

"Shut up?"

Arthur couldn't help but grin, and he gave Merlin a tap on the arm. A way to let him know he actually appreciated the man being there, without the downright telling part, before they descended on the path once more, with Arthur's gaze firmly fixed on the best way down. It wasn't a long way down, but it was certainly steep enough to slow their pace, making it a time-consuming business.

An audible sigh escaped him when the path ended in a shadowy clearing, facing an enormous rock wall. It wasn't hard to see they were in the right place. What had once been the main entrance was covered in thick layers of ivy winding their way up the rocky walls. Mining equipment was still visible under layers of mud and rusty iron. The whole area reeked of Camelot's armoury.

"Merlin, the torches."

"It's getting dark in a couple of hours, do you want to go in or set camp for the night?"

"Let's go in and find that horn," Gwaine answered instead, grabbing a torch. "The sooner we find it, the sooner we can ride back to Camelot and sleep in a decent warm bed again, and enjoy cook's supper."

"You actually like cook's supper?" Mordred asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Well, uhm, do you have a moment?"

"Stop bickering, ladies." Arthur also grabbed a torch and Merlin lit them by striking the flint and steel he took from his rucksack. "Gwaine is right, and it will be dark inside the mine anyway, no need to wait until dawn. Let's go find that Dragon's Horn." He hesitated for a moment. "Or are any of you too tired and need a rest?" He looked over at where Mordred was standing.

"I'm fine, Sire." Mordred gave him a confident smile.

"Hear, hear." Gwaine waved his arm in a flourish towards the direction of the overgrown entrance, then he gave Arthur a bright ear to ear grin. "You go first."

"Only if you take the rear."

"Don't I always?"

The torch in one hand and his trusted sword in the other, Arthur beckoned them to follow him.

It wasn't easy to cut away all of the vegetation that had been permitted to grow without any disturbance for many years, over rock and through soil and wood. Wood that marked the entrance, nearly unrecognisable when Arthur and Gwaine hacked away the ivy. Support beams of considerable thickness were placed strategically, like a wide door opening a tunnel into the hill. Arthur wondered why they would need any timber to keep the entrance open while the wall in front of him was made from rock. Cut out, like a cave entrance. The moment he peered inside, holding up his torch in front of him, he saw the reason for it, and it made him swallow, hard.

This place wasn't entirely cut out of rock. It was a mixture of rocks and sand. It meant clearly some spots were sand, some were rock. Arthur had never actually seen that before. Ismere was pure rock, and the tunnels and caves were wide and safe. Well relatively safe, not counting Morgana and her dragon. This was an entirely different place. Here the roof could come down on you, pretty fast. It would also be harder to mark sandy walls, if need be. He cursed, but knew they had to continue.

They cautiously made their way into the low tunnel, Arthur in the lead, followed by Merlin, Mordred and Gwaine. Arthur was using his torch to push and burn away the cobwebs that hung in his path. He didn't mind spiders, but also didn't care much for sticky cobwebs in his hair. He could hear Merlin splutter behind him, no doubt he'd walked into a web and was now trying to clean his face and hair. Arthur couldn't help but chuckle.

They were only a short distance in when a sudden, heavy tremor shook the earth. The vibration went up into Arthur's feet and through his sword, into his arm. His whole body started shaking. But that was the least of his worries as everything around was shaking as well. Earthquake?

"That's no normal earthquake," Gwaine observed calmly, while they simultaneously looked up at the roof of the man-made tunnel. This part was supported by gigantic wooden poles and boards that looked like they were about to crumble into dust. Even without any earthquakes, a cave-in could kill them all. The trembles they felt made earth, dust and more cobwebs fall down from above, still in small amounts, but if these movement of earth continued, that pile would grow.

Arthur was forced to think about a worst case scenario again, they could all be buried alive. His friends were his responsibility, and leading them into this desolate, dangerous place was by no means something he wanted to do. He also knew they wouldn't want to stay behind. They should probably move back to the entrance, and find another, more stable way in. He was just about to retrace their steps when the tremors stopped.

Gwaine was right, this was no normal quake. There was too much sound for one, almost like the rumbling of a gigantic dragon. He berated himself immediately for that silly thought. The last of these huge beasts was dead, and the small dragon in league with Morgana couldn't produce this sound, these movements of earth. Or maybe it could because these tunnels and caves enhanced the sound?

No, there was no dragon. It was impossible, no matter what Merlin wanted to believe. And, of course, the dimwit would have nightmares about dragons, but that didn't mean Arthur took them seriously. Knowing Merlin wasn't as much as a fool as he looked didn't make him feel more comfortable, so he automatically put one hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Scared of dragons, Sire?" Merlin's voice nearby made him freeze. Had the man just read his thoughts or something? He was thinking of a dragon as well? Of course he was, and now he was trying to rattle Arthur's brain, baiting him for a reaction. Some things never changed.

"I thought it was you, Merlin, trembling in fright."

"Are you certain about that? I could swear I heard your teeth rattling," came the reply which made Arthur release a grim smile. Trust them to mock around in tense situations.

When the earth stopped shaking in full, Arthur slowly resumed his pace, and they made their way further into the tunnel without speaking. As if speaking out loud would result into another quake. Arthur even caught himself holding his breath, while his torch made an eerie spectacle of light in front of him. It reminded him way too much of dragons. Their breath hot enough to burn the flesh straight off a man's bone.

An involuntary shudder went through him when the tunnel that had been going down for a while now, split into two. Great, just what he had expected but feared. Not that Arthur would ever show any fear, but he knew places like this were like labyrinths, and what would be the right path to find a magical object in a huge place like this? They could search for weeks, even months if they took a wrong turn.

Of course he had thought it over, knowing it would probably be hidden or placed in the largest cave or tunnel of the mine. It would be the only place to allow a dragon to enter these mines. A large cave and a large entrance not visible to them. While travelling, Merlin had told him parts of the history of the horn, and even though his friend thought he had only listened to half of what he was talking about, Arthur remembered. There wasn't a dragon now, but the horn was once placed here by one of those ancient beasts. And he wasn't someone to dismiss this as mere myth. The search for other magical items had taught him so.

Holding up the torch, he scanned the tunnels; both looked dark and dangerous. No wait, wasn't that some glow in the distance in the one to his left? He couldn't see it clearly in the light of the torch, and when Arthur moved it quickly behind him, he almost hit Merlin in the face.

"Hey, watch out."

"There." He ignored Merlin's scowl, peering into the darkness. "There's a reddish orange glow further down this tunnel, do you see it?"

Merlin's chin landed on his shoulder while he also gazed into the tunnel, making Arthur aware of how narrow the space was. They couldn't stand next to each other, and it was stuffy and smelled of rotten vegetables. Merlin, on the other hand, smelled like herbs, which made Arthur smile for some obscure reason. Maybe it reminded him of home?

"Hmm." Merlin's voice boomed in his ear, making him squeeze one eye shut. "Seems as if this glow is coming from afar, as if there is a light at the end of the tunnel, literally."

"Do you think we should take that path then?" Mordred asked from behind Merlin.

"I'm against it." Arthur didn't like the glow, not one bit. It could be anything, but preferably not a dragon of course. "We'll take the right tunnel."

"I agree," Gwaine said, and when Arthur turned to look at his companions, he saw an expression of what looked like mirth on the knight's face. "I think this might lead directly to the dragon guarding the horn. We should go around, taking the right tunnel, and surprise him."

"Surprising a dragon?" Mordred raised his brows, a look of disbelief written on his face, clearly visible in the light of the torches. It was a conversation that needed to end right now, Arthur concluded. He couldn't have them all be scared of some creature that may not even be there.

"There is _no_ dragon." Arthur couldn't believe there was, and they all needed to keep a clear head about it. This glow could be what, exactly? He was going to find an answer to it, but needed a moment to think about it. Admitting there was a dragon was not an option, even though deep down inside he knew it was possible at least. He wasn't a fool.

"Explain the glow then?" Gwaine asked, not giving him the time to think it over, a smirk on his face. "And if you don't believe there is a dragon, why take the other tunnel?"

"It could be something dangerous."

"Yes, a dragon."

" _Gwaine."_

"Yes, princess, whatever you say."

"There _is_ a dragon guarding that horn." Merlin's soft voice suddenly interrupted before Arthur could give Gwaine his build up snappy reply. "It's in the books."

"Books could be wrong," Arthur noted, while he ripped a piece of cloth from his cloak, making Merlin groan. He tied it up high to part of an old plank at the ceiling in the entrance of the chosen right tunnel. If they couldn't use the charcoal, this was the second best way to keep track on where they were going. With a deep sigh, but confident in his gestures, he took one step into the tunnel without the warm glow. It looked even more uninviting, but dragon or not, this was the way to go.

"Now, let's go."

Merlin couldn't believe it. Kilgharrah was the only one who could produce a glow like that, but what if Arthur had decided to take that tunnel? What would the dragon have done if they came blundering into the hiding place of the horn guarded by him? What would he do to make sure only Merlin would be able to get to that horn? There were so many flaws in this nonexistent plan, Merlin felt agitated. Maybe he should try and get separated from the group?

He wondered how Kilgharrah had found a way into the mine. It wasn't as if it was full of gigantic openings to admit a dragon. Had he made his own entrance a long time ago, and how would he get away without being detected? Was this really his so called 'nest' in the first place? So many possibilities, it made Merlin's mind overflow. The quakes had to be Kilgharrah's doing as well, a way to keep them from reaching their destination? Not a good plan either, as the roof could come down on them at any moment. For a smart dragon, Kilgharrah could be so stupid at times.

Following Arthur, his gaze fixed on the man's back, he wondered if it was even possible for the king to find the horn. He had felt the object himself, the moment they had walked into the mine. It was a dull humming sound in the back of his mind. And from the look on Mordred's face when they'd stepped into the mine, he was certain Mordred could hear it as well, just like Kilgharrah had told him.

Merlin hated to act like an idiot at times like these, as if he didn't know which way to go. As if he depended on Arthur for that. The moment he saw a way to get himself separated from the others, he would grab it. But right now this tunnel kept on going and going, too narrow to allow anything else but to follow it.

He tried to see past Arthur and the light of their torches. Did it get actually get wider in the distance? The sand of the tunnel started to slowly disappear, and they were walking through rock now, their footsteps making hollow sounds through the widening space. He could actually walk next to Arthur now, no longer having to peer over his shoulder.

They all came to an abrupt halt when the tunnel broadened into a space the shape of a triangle. On the wider side of this triangle there was a smooth looking wall with a large square opening, like a doorway, which had to give way to a room or a new tunnel. Merlin couldn't see it from where he was standing, but it surely piqued his curiosity, because it gave off a low humming sound. And his magic was tuning into it.

Abruptly pushing himself past Arthur, he noticed Mordred was on his heel. It was a bit disturbing to notice the man so eagerly wanting to check what was behind the wall also. Of course it shouldn't be such a surprise, because Mordred had magic. He must feel it as well.

"Do you think we should go in there?" Mordred asked from behind him, clearly excited.

"I don't think we have a choice, it seems like the only way forward."

"Wait a moment, you guys." Arthur's voice sounded like it was coming from far away, even though he was nearby. "We don't know what's in there, we better be careful, it could be a trap."

Merlin thrust his torch into the entrance, and was amazed by what he saw. The chamber, and it was a chamber, was perfectly round, all but impossible to be made by human hands without a touch of magic. The walls were smooth, the ceiling was low and seemed to be made out of rock. There were large rectangle pieces of flat grey stones on the floor, and no sign of dust or cobwebs anywhere.

It was intriguing, and it made him want to investigate immediately. Not that they could go backwards anyway, without abandoning this quest, or Arthur finding a dragon at the end of the other tunnel. Gazing into the room, there was that humming sound again, and a slight pull. Like someone was urging him to go forward, which made Merlin reach a decision. He stepped into the chamber...

"Merlin, you idiot." Arthur voice sounded sharp and clear now. "Wait!"

The very moment Merlin set foot into the round chamber, a slap of rock like a door behind him came crushing down, giving him a flashback of the trapdoor inside the tower of the Fisher King many years ago. Mordred, who'd been standing right behind him, dove forward the moment it happened, pushing them both inside the room and onto the floor in a jumbled heap of arms and legs covered by a red cloak. The shouts from both Arthur and Gwaine were effectively cut off, while both their torches extinguished.

"Feels like a trap," Merlin gasped while he stood up quickly, pulling Mordred plus cloak up with him, scanning the room lightened by a strange orange glow radiating from these perfectly smooth walls. They could only see it now because the torches weren't producing light anymore. It looked like someone was holding a torch nearby though, but without the shadows it would normally cast on walls. It reminded him of the left tunnel they had not taken. It reminded him of Kilgharrah, again. What was the dragon up to now, if this was his doing? Merlin wasn't certain.

Mordred was already at the door, feeling around with his fingers in the cracks to find a way to open it, but deep down in his heart, Merlin knew it would be to no avail. If the door was similar to the one in the Fisher King's tower, it had to be opened from the other side. He couldn't believe he had fallen for the same trap again. Or had his subconscious wanted this? It had felt like something had pulled on his magic from inside this room, making a connection. He was finally separated from Arthur and Gwaine, like he'd wanted, but still, there was Mordred. The last person he wanted to be alone with searching for the horn and encountering Kilgharrah.

"I'm sorry," Mordred sighed after a while, resting his head against the door, avoiding Merlin's gaze.

"For what?" Merlin was genuinely surprised by the admission. It wasn't Mordred's fault they were locked up apart from the others. When it came to this, it was his fault actually. He should be the one apologizing, but even more so, they had to concentrate on finding a way out. There had to be a way out.

"I should have acted quicker and pulled you back instead of pushing us both inside this room."

"Listen, Mordred, you're not to blame. Let's just try and find a way out of here."

"I agree, and I don't think it's the door." Mordred's hands never lost contact with the sleek surface of the walls while he circled around the room. Seeing the determination in the man's face, it reminded Merlin of himself. The young boy who'd come to Camelot all those years ago. Eager to please, and determined to build a life for himself in the citadel. A pang of hurt flashed through him, knowing he had lost that young man. Everyone had to grow up, of course, but at what price? The only difference was, Mordred had already experienced way too much loss for his age, and this was shining through in his eyes, even if he did his best to hide it from everyone.

"Here, I found something."

Mordred's voice pulled him out of his revere, and when he walked over to see what it was, there was already a narrow opening appearing into the wall. It wasn't as high up from the floor, only just above his knees. Merlin sensed right away this could only have been opened by magic, and while he stared at Mordred in surprise, waiting for an explanation, this one just gave an apologetic shrug while he bent and stuck his head inside.

"I think I can squeeze in here to see where it leads to. It may be a way out."

"Not with your armour you won't." Merlin peered inside, not certain if he would fit into this opening. A couple of years ago it wouldn't have been a problem, at all, but as the years progressed, he'd gotten broader. It didn't mean he wasn't willing to give it a try. "Maybe you should let me go first?"

"No need." Mordred was already shedding his armour, and while he unbuckled his sword, Merlin had to admit the younger man would probably have no problem making his way into this tiny space that might cause everyone to become claustrophobic. No matter how much he wanted to do this on his own, they were in this together for the time being.

Mordred proved him right when he pushed himself, arms forward, into the opening and wiggled his body, so agile and fast, in a couple of breaths Merlin could only see his boots. This wasn't without risk, because what would happen if he got stuck? How wide or long was this opening, and where did it lead to? It was too dark to see the end of it. Merlin could only wait patiently, which wasn't one of his strengths, he knew.

"Where does it lead to?" Merlin couldn't wait any longer, his head in front of the opening.

"Not sure, wait..." Mordred's voice sounded nearby.

A scraping noise behind Merlin made him turn towards the source. And right in front of his eyes, a large piece of stone in the floor tilted up, as if pulled by a hidden mechanism. While he looked at it, not knowing what to think and on his guard, water came pouring from the hole it had created into the chamber. Lots of water.

"Mordred?" Merlin quickly moved his head inside the opening where he peered into the darkness, only to find the soles of Mordred's boots. "We've got a huge problem."

"What is it?" It sounded muffled and tight.

"Water, there's lots of water coming into the room."

"I think I can manage to pull myself through to the other side."

"Then pull before the water gets any higher."

Mordred stopped moving and was silent for a moment, which had Merlin worried. Not only that, but the water was at knee height already. Not long and it would flood into the opening in the wall, their only way out. He moved his arms into the exit and pulled on Mordred's boot. "Why have you stopped?"

"There are iron bars here, I can't go any further."

"Use your magic."

"We can try and use magic to open the trapdoor instead?"

"Arthur will see, he'll know."

"You would risk our lives, to hide magic from Arthur?" It sounded clearly annoyed.

Merlin didn't answer straight away, as he wasn't so sure what he would do if it came to this. One time, long ago in Ealdor, he had made a choice to save his village, his people, with magic. And if Arthur would have found out about him right there and then, he wouldn't have cared. He would have saved many lives, his friends, his mother. He didn't care about his own life, as much as he did about his friends. But Mordred wasn't a friend, he was not to be trusted.

"Would you?" It wasn't fair to bounce the question back to Mordred, but he wasn't the only one with magic here, they weren't all that different when it came to this, although Merlin did wonder why Mordred almost never used his magic in the first place. He felt it vibrating inside the younger man, but it was also consciously suppressed by the man himself. He had used it just now to open the hole in the wall, so it didn't make much sense to Merlin. Of course this wasn't exactly the time to discuss these things. If they would be able to open the trap door, not only them, but Arthur and Gwaine might get into trouble as well. "Just blow those bars away in there."

"But if I do, I don't think this leads to anywhere."

"Just do it, and hurry up!"

"I don't think..." Mordred's voice was cut off by the noise of the rising, bubbling, cold water.

It was getting higher and higher, so fast, it was up to Merlin's knees, sloshing into the opening in no time. If he wasn't fast enough, Mordred would drown in there. The whole room was flooding, while he dived into the opening to try and grab the younger man's feet. He could feel his hands slip off the knight's boots before he needed to come up for air himself, quickly getting desperate. It was only a matter of moments before he would be totally submerged. He had to do something.

Taking one last gulp of air, the salt water engulfed him totally...

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

"Ah, not again!" Arthur scowled, his fist hitting the solid trapdoor in front of him that had come down without a warning, without a sound even. And now both Merlin and Mordred were stuck on the other side. Great, this quest was going just great. Why was it with Gwaine on his heel, trapdoors seemed to fall down wherever they went? The knight wasn't really to blame of course, but Arthur was angry enough to give it a try, so he turned to his companion. "And what did you do?"

"What did I do?" Gwaine didn't seem upset in the slightest, while he searched the door with a trained set of eyes. "Have you ever thought about the fact you should have been the one walking in the lead, so you would have detected this trap with your keen royal eye?"

"No need to get rude."

"No, mate, I wasn't being rude." Gwaine gave him a infuriating grin. "And should we stand here bickering, because you're starting to sound an awful lot like my dear sister, or should we find a way to open this door?"

Once again Arthur reminded himself Gwaine was a good man, and a great knight. But he also had the gift of getting on his nerves. When the knight was around, Arthur always had the need to prove himself. It was ridiculous, of course, he was the king, but when it came to horse riding, sword fighting, jousting events, there was one thing on his mind. How to beat Sir Gwaine.

Even in situations like this one, where all he wanted was to get this door open and to see Merlin's face, the man got to him. Arthur berated himself he should at least be the sensible one putting their ever ongoing battle of wills aside, trying to work together to solve this problem.

"Maybe there's a switch, like the one in the tower where I found the trident," Arthur muttered, holding up his torch, while they both started to explore the smooth made wall around the fallen door. Against all hope, Arthur silently prayed they would find a loose panel, a small opening, anything that gained them access to the other side.

He already knew, deep in his heart, it wasn't going to be that easy. Well, sticking your hands in a tight opening crawling with bugs hadn't been easy either, but there wouldn't be such a switch this time, he could feel it. And using brute force to try and open this door wouldn't work either.

Arthur wasn't going to admit the quest was already a disaster. No, he needed to keep faith and get his hands on the Dragon's Horn. Failing was not an option. And more importantly, they were going to be reunited with Merlin and Mordred. His friends could take care of themselves, although Merlin could get lost in his own closet. Maybe it was even a good thing they had to rely on each other, these two? Merlin might even start to like the boy. Might...

"Bloody door!" Gwaine breezed while kicking with his boot against the offended item, glaring at Arthur. "What are you standing there for? You kingly types, always standing there with your fingers up your nose, while we ordinary people do all the work."

"Wait."

"Wait, what?" Gwaine rubbed the sweat from his forehead, still glaring.

"Do you hear that?"

"Seriously?"

"Gwaine, just shut up for a moment."

"No please?"

"Oh, give me a break."

There it was again. The sound of water, and it sounded like it came from behind the walls around them. It gave Arthur and instant feeling of dread. What if water overflowed these tunnels, they would be like rats on a sinking ship. Nowhere to go. They would drown. The idea set like a stone in his stomach while he laid his ear against the wall to his right, and he saw Gwaine do the same on the left side.

"Water?" Gwaine frowned, his dark eyes large and anxious. "That's not even possible, is it?"

"It sounds like it's inside the walls, not behind the trapdoor."

He swallowed while turning to look into the tunnel they'd left some time ago. His body told him to run, fast, but his mind kept him standing there, trying to keep a clear head. If there was a way water would be able to fill the tunnels, it would already have happened, and they would have been able to see it on the walls. Those tunnels from the first part of their venture into the mine, dug out from sand, would have crumbled ages ago. No, this had to be local. Very local.

"If the water's not going into these tunnels, then it has to be going into that room," Gwaine noted, gazing at the trapdoor.

In an instant, real fear gripped Arthur heart. Gwaine gasped and started to pound on the door, relentlessly, like a man who was possessed. All Arthur could do was join him, because Merlin and Mordred could be drowning in there.

They really had to get the door open, as soon as possible...

Merlin couldn't hold his breath any longer. His whole body screamed at him to open his mouth and inhale. His magic instinctively pushed itself to the surface, and Merlin suddenly realised it would save his life, again. The spell in his mind released a bubble of air in his hand, and all he had to do was bring it towards his mouth and nose. It was all he had to do...

The earth shook once more, the ceiling crumbled and rocks splashed into the water all around him, missing him by inches His body was rocking backwards and forwards, his head whipping against the side of a solid wall, and everything turned dark for a moment as he gasped and breathed in nothing but water.

The bubble in his hand disappeared together with every sense of where he was, and what he was supposed to do. He struggled, clawed at his throat, while the water pressure overwhelmed all of his senses. He couldn't die, not here, not now. He had to...

"Merlin?"

An ever so silent voice, telepathically vibrating in his head came closer, and closer.

"Merlin!"

His name was shouted into his mind, a lot louder this time. As if the person yelling was right in front of him, which didn't make any sense. His groggy mind and oxygen deprived lungs were making it difficult, almost impossible to stay awake, to concentrate. He floated, and it felt relaxed, peaceful and safe, as if his mother was cradling him and kept whispering in his ear everything would be all right, and he should let go, even when his own voice yelled at him this was all wrong.

" _Emrys!"_ The loud voice, sounding familiar, all but cried out, penetrating all his senses for a moment. What was happening? He couldn't breathe, his magic felt like it was fading, blurry as did his vision when he opened his eyes under water. He was drowning, he knew it, but he couldn't be... Panic set in, and his arms were swaying, his whole body went into a spasm he couldn't control. All he needed was to get out of here, to get some air inside his lungs. He needed...

"Relax, I've got you," the voice said, and then he felt two hands pulling on his arms, while he tried to make out who it was looming in front of him, holding him steady. His hand came into contact with a mop of unruly hair and a round face, and he suddenly saw him.

Mordred, it was Mordred, but what in the world was he doing? Merlin's mind, too muddled to totally understand, tried to zone in on the other man's face, just inches from his own. It took Merlin by surprise when he saw that face bathed in a sea of blue light, and the light was captured inside a bubble. The same one he had tried to conjure earlier, before he, what happened? He couldn't remember. The bubble came close enough to envelop not only Mordred's but Merlin's face as well, and when that happened, Merlin started to gag instantly.

There was much needed air inside the bubble, but his lungs were full of water, so he coughed and gagged some more, probably right in Mordred's face, he realised. But all he noticed was the man still holding his arms, holding him upright in a firm grip.

"Slowly, Merlin, breathe in and out." Mordred's voice was very calm now. The frantic edge was gone, making Merlin wonder if he had imagined the voice of the younger man shouting in his head earlier on. "Now, let me just..."

Merlin closed his eyes, hoping it would make his breathing easier, but it didn't. It was really painful and his lungs felt like they were about to explode. He could feel Mordred's breath against his face, warm and comforting in a way. And then he suddenly felt Mordred's lips on his, and it startled him enough to make him think about pulling away. What the...

The flow of pure oxygen, mingled with a flow of magical warmth was quickly blown into his mouth, and inside his lungs, which made him relax. His ragged coughing stopped immediately, as if his lungs were healed in an instant, and his brain started to fully function again.

When Mordred pulled back a little, keeping the bubble suspended over their heads, he looked very embarrassed, no doubt about what he'd just done. Saved Merlin's life, that's what he'd done, and Merlin was shocked and surprised and grateful all at the same time. Magical mouth to mouth, the idea alone made him suddenly feel rather giddy, but maybe it was Mordred's magic touching his own?

Magic so pure, Merlin was quickly getting confused. How could someone like Mordred, who was destined to kill Arthur, be without one trace of ill intention in his very heart? Without the slightest trace of dark magic? He remembered young Mordred, those icy blue eyes, his scream. Had this young boy really changed enough to become what he portrayed at this point in time? It couldn't be, or could it?

A hand pulling his arm made him aware of their surroundings. They weren't saved yet, they needed to find a way out of this chamber, and they needed both their magic to succeed in doing so. While Merlin did his best to think clear, Mordred started to pull him to the opening in the floor where the water had come in. It was way larger than the opening in the wall Mordred had tried to squeeze himself through. Maybe it would lead to a safe place? The water had to come from somewhere.

"Are you ready?" Mordred's voice in his mind sounded calm, in control.

Merlin couldn't voice it, not even in his mind. The only thing he managed was a slight nod. This limbo world of water, light and air was soothing, and he groggily tried to focus on the task at hand. To keep the bubble of air around both of their heads, they would have to stay close together. It was impossible to swim through the opening next to each other, it was too narrow. Merlin could probably create his own life bubble now that he felt slightly better, but somehow the notion was far away in the back of his mind, not taking hold.

Mordred seemed to know exactly what to do. He let himself sink, feet first, into the hole while pulling Merlin with him. When Merlin dived in, head first, a tight feeling crept into his stomach. He felt like pulling himself out of Mordred's grip, back to the relatively open space of the chamber. Of course that wasn't an option. If the younger man could do this, so could he, even though he could barely breathe, and this time not because he didn't have any air.

Lucky for him the opening led from a tube to a wider water-filled tunnel. The bubble around their heads lit the whole area in blue, showing them the way. It became wide enough to swim next to each other, of which Merlin was grateful. They made slow progress, as it wasn't easy to follow the tunnel. They needed to struggle against the current, which was rather strong, and try to avoid hitting the sharp rocks sticking out of the walls. Mordred kept a firm hold of his arm, the bubble of air being large enough for them to keep a bit of distance.

What seemed like forever, the tunnel twisting and turning, while Merlin feared there would be no other end, they finally popped out of the water. The spell was lifted, the magical bubble disappeared and warm air filled Merlin's lungs. Mordred was still holding his arm, while they both swam to the shore of what looked like a large underground waterhole.

Coughing and trying to catch his breath, Merlin pulled himself up on the rocks nearest to him. They were flat and slippery, and he slid back into the water when Mordred's steady hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him up and out. Strong, steady hands. Safe. It hit Merlin immediately they were safe, and that he owed it to Mordred. He was also aware of how sick he felt now that the adrenaline rush left his body. He was cold and wet and felt like throwing up. But what about his saviour?

"Are you all right?" he managed, his gaze searching Mordred's face, the younger man's deep frown showing signs of exhaustion. Reaching out his hands, Merlin held them both in front of Mordred and whispered a spell that would dry their clothes and warm their bodies. When the spell took effect he let out a sigh in relief, as he slowly started to feel much better. All they needed was some time to rest. Mordred didn't say anything, just gave him a small nod, his face unreadable.

Becoming aware of their surroundings, Merlin was relieved to see they were resting in what looked like a small cave. The ceiling wasn't very high, and there was a beam of orange light coming from above and from behind them. All they had to do was go around a corner and find their way into the cave or tunnel ahead. It might even be a way out, or at least a way forward. He could feel the magical vibe of the Dragon's Horn, much closer now. Mordred should feel it too. But would it be wise to ask him if he did?

Mordred, the man who had saved his life. Either that could mean a calculated move, like Merlin had felt it had been when Mordred had saved Arthur, or the young man had actually no clue about his own destiny. Of course no one could know their true destiny, but if Mordred had any notion, anything working inside of him, pulling him towards the dark side of magic, he would probably have been okay with leaving Merlin there to die in that place. Mordred knew Merlin didn't like and trust him. He had made it very clear. So, why would he save him? What was the idea behind it, if there was one? Was Mordred really genuinely caring for all of them, for Camelot?

Arthur had trusted Mordred almost immediately, and sometimes Merlin wondered why the king didn't question the boy's motives, at all. Or maybe their destinies were so intertwined Arthur could only act the way he did? Another one of destiny's plans?

The whole situation left Merlin in a state of both shock and gratefulness at the same time. What if Gaius was right after all, and the boy just wanted, needed their support? What if Merlin could actually change destiny? He'd meddled with these things before, but the outcome had always been the same. He'd only made things worse, even speeded along the things to come. Like what had happened with Morgana.

Merlin still blamed himself for it every day. If he made the choice of trusting Mordred now, could or would the boy stay true to Camelot and Arthur? He didn't want to make the same mistakes as he'd made with Morgana. It was a terrifying idea actually, but one that couldn't be denied any longer. Mordred was here, right now, and the boy desperately needed his trust. He could see it in those sky blue eyes. All Merlin had to do was reach out to him.

"Maybe we can go around, find another way?"

Gwaine had been pounding, pushing and swearing away at the trapdoor for what seemed like ages. There was no handle, no doorknob, no nothing to open it, and as there was only the sound of water penetrating the walls, they could only assume Merlin and Mordred were in big trouble in there. If they could only find another entrance, perhaps they would be able to rescue them or even catch up with them if they had moved on. The last option was what Gwaine was hoping for. They had to be able to move on, avoiding the water. His friends had to be safe.

It was frustrating as hell to be stuck out here, not being able to support them. Gwaine didn't like feeling helpless, a sensation he'd never felt before he'd met Merlin. A man who'd become his friend without even knowing who he was. And now that he did know, he was still around, even more than before, always having his back. Always standing up for him, even when he didn't deserve it. Arthur may have asked him to go on this quest, and as a knight he would obey those instructions, but it was Merlin who always made him come along, and the reason why he stayed in Camelot.

Things had changed though. Merlin had changed. Everyone changed, but this had not been a slow process of growing up, of being more responsible, sensible and wiser. No, something had happened to Merlin in Ismere, or before, and it had turned him into a resigned, almost bitter person. There was clearly something bothering him, and it had to do with Mordred, that much was clear. But he didn't want to talk about it. Not even to Gwaine. And the knight knew he wasn't going to push his best friend in doing so. If Merlin was ready, he would trust him enough to tell him. At least it was what Gwaine wanted to believe.

"I'm certain they are safe." Arthur let out a restrained puff of air next to him. Gwaine could hear he was doing his best to believe these words, and yes, he wanted to believe them as well. Standing here, pounding away at this slap of rock wasn't going to help anyone.

"If you think so."

"There's nothing we can do here."

"True."

Being stuck in a dark place with a king wasn't normally Gwaine's idea of a good quest. Well, this quest was always going to be dangerous, but still. He could handle dangerous, dangerous wasn't a problem. But the constant nagging of royals got on his nerves, every time without fail. He wasn't being fair though, because King Arthur was a brave and noble man, and working for him gave the knight a sense of belonging someplace. Merlin might have been the reason he stayed in Camelot, Arthur was the only royal in all the lands he would gladly fight for. He also knew the king would lay down his life for any of them.

"This isn't helping us at all. Let's find another way around," Arthur concluded with a grim face. "We can backtrack to the entrance, and take the left tunnel this time."

"You mean the one with the dragon?"

"No dragon, there is no dragon."

"You're really thick, aren't you? Didn't you hear Merlin's words about the dragon who might be guarding the horn?"

"Any other suggestions, then?"

Gwaine knew they were out of options, so he could only agree with Arthur on this. He also believed Merlin had told the truth about a dragon, and the king was just too stubborn to listen to a word of advice from his servant. If they encountered said dragon, they would at least have found the Dragon's Horn. And hopefully the beast would be asleep.

Before they could turn around, the earth started to rumble and shake again, as if the dragon wanted to prove to Sir Gwaine that he shouldn't mess with him. So much for the peaceful sleeping dragon idea he wanted to believe in.

"Arthur, watch out!"

Dust and rocks came down from the uneven roof, and Gwaine pulled Arthur backwards and away from the door, hard. They fell, landing on the cold hard floor, half on top of each other, making Gwaine groan as Arthur's sword connected with a very sensitive spot of his body. Great, now he had a royal on top of him. It somehow wasn't what he'd expected, he decided with a grin. His whole body started to shake, effectively wiping the grin of his face, when another quake made the tunnel highly unstable.

Everything shook, once, twice, and Gwaine covered his eyes when an enormous rock came loose from the roof, landing right in front of the trapdoor. Exactly on the spot where they had been standing a few moments before. And exactly on one of their still burning torches.

"I'll say it again, this isn't a normal quake," Gwaine muttered, trying to get up, but failing, as a king in full armour was still pinning him down. "I think it's the dragon rumbling in his lair, knowing we are on our way to steal the horn."

"Gah, Gwaine, let me repeat it one more time. There are _no_ dragons here."

"If you keep repeating it long enough, you might start to believe it yourself." He breathed it into Arthur's face, who stared at him in disgust before rolling off him, and jumping to his feet. "Oh, and thank you, my dear Gwaine. Oh yes, you're very welcome, Arthur."

"What are you going on about?"

Gwaine let out another groan, but this time in mock frustration. "I don't know, for saving your life perhaps?"

"I saw it coming."

"Oh yeah? You and what army?"

Arthur didn't respond, grabbing the single burning torch, like he was about to hit him around the head with it. But instead the king backtracked his way with long strides into the tunnel they had left not too long ago, leaving Gwaine standing in the dark, all alone.

"You, you saved me."

"I know you would have done the same for me." Mordred was registering the surprise on Merlin's face, and was never more curious about the reason for it. Wasn't it normal to rescue and help your fellow knights, fellow humans, friends? Was Merlin really that unsure about trusting him? He needed to know, now more than ever, why this was the case. This was as great as an opportunity as ever.

"Why do you dislike me so much?" Mordred couldn't help but swallow while asking the question. As if he needed to swallow away his insecurities and fear. But fear of what? Did he really need Merlin's approval and friendship? Was he fearing the other man's rejection so much it made him feel sick to the stomach? He knew the answers to these questions already, but pushed them from his mind, concentrating on Merlin's face. A face that fell, almost as insecure and scared as he was?

"I don't dislike you."

"Yes, you do." Mordred knew he had to push on, or he would never find out the truth about the whole matter, because his courage to ask would leave him. "You do everything possible to stop me from getting too close. Why?"

As expected, and he really did expect it, Merlin didn't answer, but when he met his eyes there was a sadness inside of them that made Mordred reconsider his thoughts about the man. This look said so much, but it still didn't make any sense, at all. "You almost never use your magic, why's that?" Merlin asked him instead, the question apparently coming out of nowhere.

Mordred sniffed, knowing Merlin was trying to change the subject, and maybe he should humour him for a moment there. They didn't know each other very well, and Mordred for one still hoped this could change. That they could at least be friends. "Only bad things come from using it."

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Merlin asked, sounding slightly shocked at the blunt reply.

"Yes, I do."

"It's not true."

"It is, most of the time. I want people to see me as me, not someone with magic they can use and abuse when they see fit. Arthur and the knights accept me for being me. I don't need to use magic, which suits me fine."

"But you just saved my life with your magic."

"That's different."

"Really?"

A thick silence hung in air, where Mordred didn't know if he could or even wanted to explain his constant struggle with magic. It was part of him, it was him in a way, but he also feared it at times, as it had brought him death and destruction, and...

"Do you ever feel completely and utterly alone, Mordred?"

"Yes," Mordred instantly replied, without hesitation. His thoughts driven back to the time after his father had died. The time when he had been wandering around from one druid clan to the next. A time where people whispered that he was cursed. They took care of his every need, food and water, a place to sleep, but they didn't dare to give him the love he was seeking. Feeling alone while being with a group of people, Mordred definitely knew all about it. But why would Merlin feel the same way? And he was, or he wouldn't ask. Merlin still had a mother, he had Gaius and lived in Camelot. He had a great destiny. Lonesome wasn't a word he associated with the warlock.

Camelot had taken Mordred in, Arthur trusted him, and the other knights were helping him in any way they could. He'd never experienced anything like it before, and even though he still missed his family at times, the place and its people were quickly becoming a true home. Maybe it was why Merlin kept defending the place and the king so fiercely? Losing it would mean to live in utter loneliness, forever?

Merlin both intrigued and scared him at times. The man was powerful, yet that power was hidden so deep inside of him, under layers of what exactly? Self-protection? No, Merlin wasn't selfish, Mordred knew. He would die for his friends, no doubt about it. He could only come to the same conclusion again and again. Merlin was protecting Camelot and the king, and them knowing about his magic would mean he couldn't do this anymore. But what did this have to do with him?

"But what about you, the great Emrys?" Mordred couldn't help but ask the question. They were more alike than Merlin was willing to admit. Protecting Camelot while hiding secrets deep down inside, until they started to eat away at your very soul. If Merlin would start to trust him, they could be there for each other, support each other. Arthur might trust him, but Merlin doing the same was all Mordred actually wanted, needed.

Mentioning the druid name made Merlin flinch, but just for a moment, making Mordred wonder if he had seen it in the first place. When it was gone, Merlin was silent for a long time, gazing at the rocky floor under their feet as if he was deep in thought. Mordred again didn't expect an answer, so when Merlin spoke up he was so surprised, he took a sharp intake of air.

"Emrys has a destiny and destinies can be cruel things, they can make you feel very lonely," Merlin admitted, but said it in a way as if he was talking about someone else, not himself. As if he and Emrys were two separate beings. "It's like you are the only one in the world who can stop terrible things from happening."

"Terrible things?"

"Horrible events that need to be stopped, no matter what the cost."

Mordred understood this part. He did have a dream about the Dragon's Horn after all, and many before. Dreams that foretold the future, showing him images of things that hadn't happened yet. And now they were on this quest to stop his latest dream from happening, and keeping the facts of the dream for himself was indeed a very lonely feeling. One he wanted to share, desperately, but couldn't. At least not with Arthur or the knights. He would have shared it with Merlin if they had been friends.

Merlin was holding so many secrets, Mordred doubted he knew half of them. Not only did he keep his magic a secret from Arthur and the knights, but there had to be so much more. And no doubt it had to do with him, with Merlin's animosity and sometimes downright hostile towards him, only him. And whatever it was, it was eating away at the man, like Mordred's secrets were eating away at him as well.

"There is something you know about me, isn't there? Something terrible?"

There it was, out in the open, and Mordred awaited Merlin's shocked gaze, which didn't come. The only thing clearly written on the other man's face was regret.

"And you can't tell me?" Mordred continued, while one part of him was dying to know what Merlin hid, another part really didn't want to know anything about the future. Knowing about it could be a dangerous thing, as the future was never certain anyway, ever. If he did know, would he change things? Would he try and prevent it from ever happening? Would he even be able to do so? As Merlin said, destinies were cruel things. Mordred wasn't even sure he could prevent others from stealing the Dragon's Horn before them, and this seemed way bigger.

"Do you think it's wise to know?" Merlin asked the question, soft but deliberate.

"I would get a chance to prove it wrong, but meddling with destiny, that's huge."

"Yes, I know," Merlin admitted. "I've tried."

Of course he had. Mordred wasn't sure if this surprised him, or told him how powerful Emrys really was. But Mordred wasn't Emrys, he didn't wield such power. The only reason he'd been able to save Merlin was because he'd conjured the magical air bubble without being knocked out by rocks. It was the only reason why Merlin had almost drowned. There had been no doubt in Mordred's mind about saving him. Emrys was important to the future of Albion and magic.

And now, the man was offering him some important information about his own future. It meant there was a slow building of trust going on between them. Not much, but it was a start. An important step had been made by Merlin, and now it was up to Mordred to open up to him as well.

"I need time to think it over." Mordred knew he couldn't decide what to do right away. The choice could only be made after summing up all the positive as well as negative sides on the matter. He'd always thought Merlin opening up to him could only be a good thing. And of course it was, but the message it was holding, it frightened him to no end. Yes, he needed time to think about it.

"Of course." Merlin laid a hand on his shoulder, a gesture so unfamiliar, it made Mordred freeze, staring at him. The only response was a wide lopsided grin, one Merlin had never given him before, and it warmed him more than any spell that dried their clothes. "Whenever you feel ready."

They both stood up, observing the glow coming from the other side, around the corner of the cave they were standing in. They were on an important quest, it should not be forgotten. It was time to find what they were looking for. The Dragon's Horn. It was still out there. Mordred could feel it, and he wondered if Merlin could as well. It wouldn't be hard to locate now, as his dream had also shown him an image of the horn. He knew what it looked like.

Without speaking, they made their way out of the alcove, climbing up a bit, and into a huge cavern. So huge, Mordred couldn't see the roof. The whole cave was glowing orange and red, steam filling parts of it, and on top of a flat rock he saw a huge figure gazing down at them both.

A dragon. They had found the dragon's den. And this dragon was very much alive...

tbc


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

Worry was threatening to overwhelm the king of Camelot, and the thought of Merlin and Mordred drowning while they had been so close but so far away made him feel sick. Of course there was no evidence this actually had happened, and Arthur was desperately trying to hold on to the thought. Merlin always had the uncanny ability to do extremely well in tight situations, and maybe they would pop up somewhere unexpected. If so, he would be relieved as well as angry with his servant. Angry for walking into the chamber, unprotected and all. He would never admit the occurrence had almost made his heart stop. With Merlin around, one never knew quite what to expect.

And here he was, together with Gwaine, who grudgingly followed him inside the tunnel that still emitted the orange glow. Arthur felt the immediate urge to extinguish their only torch, for fear of being detected by something, someone. But they had no means to relight it, as Merlin had the flint and steel, so he kept the fire as far down to the ground as possible. They both held their swords at a ready as they slowly, very cautiously continued while silence hung over them like a thick blanket.

It was eerie. Not the part of walking in silence on their way to what could possibly be a dragon's den, and yes, there might be a den, dragon or not, but the part of walking in silence with Gwaine. Arthur was accustomed to the knight's sometimes mindless chatter, which reminded him of Merlin once more. His servant and friend was lost, could be dead. No, not dead. He really didn't want to allow his mind to travel there again, as it was of no use. They had to focus on the task at hand.

The glow was getting brighter, and still there was no explanation for its existence. What if Morgana or those mercenaries that Mordred heard about, would have reached the Dragon's Horn first? And what if she had brought along that fire spitting pet of hers? After Ismere, she had vanished. His men had searched for her and the dragon, but it was almost like she'd disappeared from the face of the Earth. Would she have regained her strength this early to strike at them? It was a real possibility.

"Stop!" Gwaine's voice was echoing loudly through the tunnel, surprising Arthur enough to make him both freeze and let out a couple of swear words. Not only because it had scared him half to death, but also because 'stealth' was out the window now. "There was a clicking sound, you stepped on something."

"You heard a click, so what?" Arthur moved his torch towards the rough floor. Could he have stepped on a pebble, or a tool left behind?

"Oh, I don't know, maybe it has something to do with the spikes hanging down the ceiling?"

Arthur followed Gwaine's highly alerted gaze, and in the ever moving flicker of the torch he saw it as well. The light danced over a dozen or so sharp looking metal spikes, that weren't too far removed from the top of his head, swaying in the breeze they had conjured by their movements. Damn it, this was serious.

His first instinct was to step away from under them, but because Gwaine had heard that 'click', he knew his foot had probably triggered something in the floor, and moving might cause those spikes to rain down on him. He swallowed, not daring to move one muscle. If he moved even one toe, just an inch, he wouldn't survive. This Huail guy did know how to lay traps. This one forgotten, or maybe even stepped over but never touched by Camelot soldiers years ago.

"I will pull you off," Gwaine announced in a tight whisper. "Pushing won't work, as this would mean it's me in the path of those spiky spikes, so pulling it should be."

"Pull me off, are you crazy?"

"Yes, I've been known for being nuts, and more," Gwaine mumbled, but there wasn't any humour to be found in his answer. If Gwaine didn't pull fast enough, or if Arthur couldn't dive fast enough, they would get seriously hurt. And in the middle of nowhere wasn't a place you wanted to get injured. Not even with Merlin carrying a medical bag along on quests. Merlin wasn't nearby anyway. He could be hurt as well, and he and Mordred were counting on them for help.

"There should be another way; maybe you can replace my weight with something else?"

"Seen anything convenient lying around as heavy as you are?"

"I'm not that heavy."

"Yes, whatever. Now let me think about it. If I pull you this way, we might block the tunnel towards the way we're going, but I can't pass you because it's too narrow."

"Will you stop babbling and do this?" Arthur passed Gwaine the torch and his sword. There was a shiver going down his spine, a mixture of fear and excitement. If that was the right word for it, because it was absurd. At times like these it felt like his body needed the rush, a challenge of some sort. A ridiculous thought, as they could be killed. He had to lay all of his trust in the hands of one of his knights, and he knew he could. Gwaine wouldn't let him, them down.

"Ready?" Gwaine asked, laying the sword and the torch on the floor.

"As I'll ever be."

Strong hands took a firm hold of his two wrists, and Arthur did the same in return. Gwaine took a couple of deep breaths. "On three."

"On three."

"One, two..."

Arthur put all his strength into the dive, and he felt Gwaine was doing the same when he shot forward like an arrow out of a crossbow. He literally flew through the air, landing hard on top of the knight, while their tumble made dust and cobwebs rain down on their unprotected heads, and their torch went out. He heard Gwaine gasp, while he waited for the sound of those spikes to come down.

Nothing happened. They lay there waiting, panting, and it was the only sound in the semi-darkness that reached Arthur's ears. The loud panting of Gwaine beneath him, too weary to do anything but wait. Like him.

"I hate this place." Gwaine voiced what Arthur was thinking. They'd lost Merlin and Mordred, not certain if they were even alive. And here they were, lying on the cold rocky floor of the tunnel, covered in sticky cobwebs, losing the light of their only torch, all because of a trap that didn't work anymore. Great.

"On the bright side, we can still go on and it's not totally dark, either." Gwaine started to cough into Arthur's face, making him fully aware of their position and he scrambled off the knight, standing up, dusting off his clothes and pulling webs from his face and out of his hair.

Gwaine was right. The orange light they saw in the distance had enough power to ensure the tunnel wasn't enveloped into darkness the moment their torch had gone out. Once Arthur's eyes were accustomed to it, he could see Gwaine's face, cobwebs decorating his long hair. Reverting his gaze up to the ceiling, he could see the spikes still hanging there, menacing but apparently incapable to harm anyone any further.

"Let's go, we've been delayed long enough," Arthur muttered, feeling irritated, sweaty and dirty while pulling Gwaine to his feet. He found his sword, and bending over to grab it, he felt battered and bruised. And the worst thing, he was still extremely worried. It was gnawing away at him. "We need to find a way forward, we will not give up."

Gwaine slapped him on the back, dust and webs flying around. "Hear, hear."

"Thanks, Gwaine, that'll be one more bruise."

"You're welcome, princess."

The very moment Mordred and Merlin had turned the corner, a huge cavern had come into sight, and the familiar figure of Kilgharrah gazed at them from where he was perched on a huge slap of rock. Merlin saw him straight away, a dragon of that size was hard to miss, and unfortunately, so did Mordred. He cursed himself for not telling Mordred about the dragon when he'd had the chance. What had he expected, for them to be great friends instantly?

Merlin could feel Mordred building up his magic, but this time it was uncontrollable and fierce, which made the warlock realise there were definitely two sides to the man, and he may seem in control of himself and his abilities most of the time, he sometimes did slip.

It was no mean feat for a man of Mordred's age, still so very young, to be in control constantly. At that age, Merlin certainly hadn't been very sensible. More of a loose arrow most of the time. If Gaius hadn't been there for him, Arthur would have probably found out about his magic ages ago. Mordred's life experiences made him who he was, but Merlin knew he still needed some guidance. People who believed in him.

"Mordred, no, wait!" Jumping in front of the young man was not the wisest of ideas, but Merlin's magic had built an invisible shield to protect himself, so nothing could harm him in any way. He should have asked Mordred to do the same, although he wasn't sure the man even knew how.

"A dragon, it's a dragon..." Mordred panted, looking absolutely terrified, his eyes wide, his face pale while his magic seemed to be building and building, threatening to explode.

"The dragon's a friend."

"A..." Mordred didn't release his gaze at Kilgharrah, while Merlin's words were processed and weighed and thought over. Merlin could almost hear it happening, and it felt like forever while it only took a few moments. "A friend of yours, you have a dragon friend?" There was a mixture of awe and disbelief in his voice. "I'm not even surprised, but I thought all dragons were..."

"Dead?" Kilgharrah's stern dark voice suddenly penetrated the air, booming as it vibrated off the walls of the cavern. "I am one of the last of my kind, and you are not to be trusted."

"Wha, what?" Mordred stammered, while Merlin bit his lip on hearing the dragon's accusation. "You know who I am?"

"You are the druid boy who will bring about the destruction of the once and future King," Kilgharrah stated, his eyes turning to slits as he bent over to look at them better, dangerous and foreboding. "I think it would be best if you did not survive."

Mordred gasped, stepping back behind Merlin while he stared from Kilgharrah back to Merlin. The amount of magic pushing itself to the surface of the younger man became hard to ignore, as it threatened to bubble out of him on impulse. It happened to Merlin himself if he was in mortal danger, his instinctual magic took over.

"Your magic will not stop me," Kilgharrah said in an amused voice, observing Mordred as if he was a fly that should be crushed in an instant. And it made Merlin suddenly very afraid, even with his power over the dragon, being a dragonlord and all, Kilgharrah would still find a way to kill Mordred. He wasn't going to let it happen. Mordred was his burden to carry, not Kilgharrah's. The quest here was to remove the Dragon's Horn, so the dragon could bring it to a new sacred place, there would be no murder involved. Merlin knew he had to stop it from happening. Had to do something, right now.

Before the dragon could make a move, and before magic took a complete hold of Mordred's emotions, Merlin turned to face the younger man, raised his hand and whispered the so familiar spell it almost came automatically. "Onslæp nu."

There was no resistance, at all, as he caught Mordred's slack body when the young man slipped into a deep sleep, keeling over to the side. He lay him down carefully, turning back to Kilgharrah with defiance in his eyes. The dragon wouldn't dare kill an unarmed sleeping man.

" _Merlin!"_ The dragon started to roar in annoyance, smoke from his nostrils flying up into the air.

"You will not touch him." Merlin raised his head some more, taking on a stance that meant this was no joke. He meant every word of it, and as a dragonlord, Kilgharrah would have no choice but to obey this. He may not like it, but Mordred was really not the dragon's responsibility.

Kilgharrah's eyes had turned to slits, and the roaring was replaced by a menacing almost whispering tone of voice. "The boy is a threat, he needs to be eliminated."

Merlin stood tall, his shoulders straight, his eyes burning. "I promise you, if I remove the horn from its resting place, you can have it. Hide it in a place where no one will ever find it again. But Mordred is my concern, not yours, not right now."

"He has found a way to your heart?"

"He has saved my life."

"That doesn't change anything."

"How can you be so sure? The future is never written in stone, you know as well as I do." Merlin stood his ground, trying to keep his face neutral, but confident. Kilgharrah wouldn't dare to challenge him.

"I know you do what you feel is right, Merlin, again." Kilgharrah's voice sounded resigned, but Merlin knew better than to lower his guard and his pose. "It shows great courage. But remember where it led to with the witch. Remember, trust is that double edged sword, and I have said this once before, but your ability to see the good in people will be your undoing."

"Maybe this time you are wrong."

"If you want to think I am, so be it."

"You nearly killed me in that chamber, I'd be dead if it hadn't been for Mordred."

"That was not my intention."

"What was? The quakes or the water?"

"You should have been more careful, young warlock. It was the druid boy who needed to be killed."

"Oh great, so the rocks falling down into the water was part of your plan?" Merlin wanted to scream in frustration at the magical creature, when realisation hit him. What if this had actually been Kilgharrah's plan all along? Merlin couldn't help but feel disappointed. He'd always thought the dragon had changed after he became a dragonlord, but it seemed like he still had his own agenda when it came to the future of Albion.

Merlin let out a deep sigh, thrusting his hands through his hair in an attempt to stay calm. "That was the real reason we couldn't just fly to the mine in the first place, wasn't it? All you wanted was to confront Mordred, and eliminate him, right? And don't start lying to me again. Him following me inside the chamber, it was all pre-destined by you."

"He is dangerous."

"That's not a reason to murder him in cold blood."

"To me it is," the dragon sniffed, releasing a plume of smoke.

"He saved my life."

"So you keep saying," Kilgharrah stated, looking unimpressed by the warlock's irritation. But Merlin knew he wasn't going to try and kill Mordred again when the dragon quickly changed the subject as if nothing ever happened. "Now, Merlin, will you please take the horn from its resting place, so we can leave this place?"

"It is always about you, isn't it?" Merlin muttered, "and that means, no apologies."

"The horn must be taken to a safer place." Kilgharrah, ignoring his comment, started to sound impatient, turning his back on him, and moving his head towards a wall to his right. All Merlin could see was a small round hole when he followed the dragon's movements, and he knew what was hidden inside. "The Dragon's Horn is located in there."

"Yes, I know." Merlin let it slip. "I felt it already before we entered this cavern."

"You are the last dragonlord, and I told you before, it was to be expected."

Merlin let out a deep sigh, gazed down on Mordred's sleeping form, wondering if it was safe to let him out of his sight. Kilgharrah might have moved on, but he wasn't totally convinced yet. "If I remove the horn, you have to promise me no harm comes to Mordred."

"Merlin..."

"Promise."

"I promise." The dragon stated. "We do not see eye to eye on this, but I will never be able to refuse a dragonlord, even if I wanted to, you should know by now."

"Good."

The climb amongst the rocks towards the hole took a couple of precarious moments. Then Merlin peered inside and there it was. A beautiful coal black horn, with a golden dragon carved into its slightly curving side, and a golden mouth piece. It was larger than he'd expected, and the strangest thing was, it wasn't covered in dust or cobwebs, at all. It was shining, like someone had just polished it the other day. While gazing at it, he could feel himself overcome with joy.

When he slowly laid one hand on the horn, a loud buzzing noise penetrated all of his senses. It felt like a giant bee inside of his head. It wasn't like anything he'd experienced before, and even though it was overpowering, it felt good. It felt like he was alive, free, soaring through the air. Almost like a dragon. And then the feeling diminished, making him aware of what he was about to do.

He carefully lifted the magical item out of its carved out niche. It was heavy and warm, and he had to use both his hands to hold onto it. It tingled as if connected with something inside of him. He could hear an imaginary click in his mind, a connection was made and could not be broken. It was impossible for this horn to be alive, to emanate this kind of vibe and emotion, and Merlin wondered if Kilgharrah had anything to do with it. A dragon and his dragonlord, forever attached to each other, and bound to their duties.

"Careful, young warlock," the dragon whispered, seemingly in awe by the moment, just as much as Merlin was. The last time this item was touched by human hands, it had been held by his father. This sudden revelation was so intense, tears fell from his eyes, salty and warm and strangely comforting. It was washing away the tense burden of his destiny, and all he wanted was to hold the horn to his chest and keep it there forever.

"Place it in my claw." Kilgharrah's voice, still in awe, opened up a giant paw almost as large as the round table, while Merlin pulled himself away from his emotions and did what he was told without arguing. He knew he would visit the Dragon's Horn again, when the dragon brought it to its new resting place. The idea alone was enough to part with it for now.

"I must leave. The once and future king, also known as courage and your friend strength are approaching. I will contact you when I have found a new suitable place for the sacred horn." Kilgharrah bowed, the horn looking tiny in his huge paw.

Merlin could see him glance at the sleeping Mordred one more time, which gave the warlock the idea the dragon still toyed with the idea of destroying him. This thought was hurting Merlin's insides, and he was glad Kilgharrah decided it was time to leave. It was good to know, though, Arthur and Gwaine were on their way to meet up with them. It meant they were all safe, for now.

When Kilgharrah moved away from his place on top of the flat rock, Merlin was amazed by how fast he could actually move around without flying straight up into the air. The dragon turned once more. "I may have to discourage them to come any further."

Discourage Gwaine and Arthur? Merlin didn't like the sound of that. Kilgharrah would never hurt them deliberately, but that didn't mean it couldn't happen. "Try not to show yourself to them."

"That may be difficult, young warlock, look at my size."

"I know you are able to leave this place without being detected," Merlin said pointedly. "So you don't have to chase them off."

"I will not harm them."

"You might, by accident."

"It's good to hear you have so much faith in me, Merlin."

"You would have killed Mordred, if I hadn't stopped you."

Kilgharrah let out a huff of hot air, a snort actually leaving his lips. "It is not every day an opportunity presents itself. But I will promise you, I will not harm the once and future king. He is important for the future of Albion."

"Oh well, it's good you have your priorities there." Merlin couldn't help but be sarcastic. Of course Kilgharrah had always been a big help to him, but that didn't mean they always agreed. It also didn't mean Merlin took everything he said for granted. Not anymore. Growing up had taught him that much. Sometimes the future could be changed. It didn't happen often, but looking down at a sleeping Mordred, looking so young and innocent, he knew he would give the boy a chance.

"Until we meet again, young warlock. Beware of the druid boy, and remember my advice."

The dragon walked through a large opening that led to another huge cave, and was out of sight. It was time to wake Mordred, and make their way to Arthur and Gwaine. Merlin was already thinking about what to tell Arthur about the Dragon's Horn, and why it wasn't here anymore. It wouldn't be too hard to fool Arthur. Gwaine on the other hand...

Placing a hand on Mordred's forehead, a current of magic passed into his hand and arm and he almost pulled back from it. There was something important going on inside the mind of the young man. Concentrating, he closed his eyes and felt a flow of familiar images pop into his head. Dragons, the horn and more important, the vision of Mordred killing Arthur.

In shock he stepped back, tripped and fell backwards on his behind with a loud oomph. What in the world had just happened? Did Mordred actually have the same vision haunting his own nightmares, right here and now? Was this even possible?

tbc


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

Mordred had a sensation of falling into a hole, and he couldn't remember why it was suddenly so dark. He consciously knew, again, he was sleeping. It felt different though, unnatural, when the dark was replaced by him holding the Dragon's Horn, and a huge dragon, at least as tall as the main gate of Camelot, looking down at him. The dragon simply told him to go to sleep. What was it doing in his bedroom anyway? And why was he about to go to sleep, when he had already slept?

The dragon suddenly started to rage, and absolutely terrified of its fire and madness, Mordred dropped the horn and ran. Ran through forests and streets until he was out of breath. The dragon was no longer in sight, but the fear was still tangible inside his whole body.

Again he was flying across the lands. The five Kingdoms passing below him once more. Then he saw the shadow he had seen before, but this time he recognised it. It was him. He was blowing the horn and destroying Camelot and everyone in it. It gave him a feeling of being all mighty, his magic enhancing the power of the horn. No one would ever ignore and shunt him away again. His name would be remembered.

But did he want this? Was this the reason he needed the horn? It wasn't clear when he suddenly landed and walked on what seemed to be a battle field. Bodies of dead or dying soldiers everywhere, screams of agony and fear and the sounds of fierce battle penetrated his ears. He felt strangely undisturbed by all of it. As if there were no emotions in his movements. Like he didn't care, at all.

There was only one goal to reach, and he was standing a few steps away. Arthur Pendragon, his sword still raised as he turned to face Mordred. Surprise was clearly visible on the man's face when Mordred struck him with his own sword. And this time the sharp emotion of anger reached his senses. Anger bubbled up inside of him like a tidal wave. Arthur had betrayed him, hurt him beyond repair, and he would suffer the consequences. He had to die.

The king parried one blow, not even trying his best to fight him off. Like he still couldn't believe it was Mordred standing there, fighting. Mordred struck again and the sword embedded itself deep into Arthur's chest, who fell down on his knees, instant shock in his eyes...

Mordred immediately woke up and bolted upright, panting and disorientated, trying to focus on his surroundings. Where in the world was he? He shuddered and swallowed a lump in his throat, trying to shake the feeling of dread.

"It's just a dream."

It was Merlin's voice right in front of him, and he jumped up in fright, looking around frantically when the thought of huge dragons, fire and the vision of him killing Arthur penetrated his senses. It didn't make sense, but it was so real, the thought alone had almost made it happen already. Merlin didn't know, didn't know about his dreams, couldn't know. How could he know? "No, no, you don't understand, my dreams. Sometimes they come true."

"Calm down, did the dream about the Dragon's Horn come true?"

"How did you-"

"Well, did it?"

"No, not yet, but..."

"Everything will be fine."

No, everything wouldn't be fine. It would be far from fine if this was to be his future, where he would harm his best friends and kill his king. Mordred felt tears sting his eyes, while his body shook in both shock and fear, and he couldn't catch his breath, couldn't find the strength to calm down. This couldn't be, he would prevent it from ever happening, although he had no idea where to start. The vision hadn't exactly told him why he became so angry with Arthur in the first place. He just knew he'd been angry enough to want to kill him.

He was panicking when a firm hand landed on his shoulder, and a pair of dark blue eyes bore deep inside his, calm and focused and ever knowing. This was Emrys, this man in front of him that steadied him, warmed his heart like it had never been warmed before. There was trust in those eyes, and it made Mordred clearly see what he had lost a long time ago. Friends, a home, and a future, never certain, no matter what. It was as if Emrys, not Merlin, had looked straight into his soul, and knew everything about him, his dreams, his insecurities and fears.

"You had a vision." The voice was darker than Merlin's usual tone, not questioning but merely stating a fact. The blue eyes were admitting a tiny sense of fear, as if Mordred should not have seen, not have known, what lay beyond. What had probably been written in stone from the day he'd been born. The druids had never fully accepted him, and this could well be the reason for it. They feared him, and it was the same fear he saw in those eyes in front of him. A want, no, a need to trust, but mixed with the knowledge one day he would be the enemy. He would be the downfall of King Arthur Pendragon. A knowledge that meant only one thing. Emrys knew about this vision, it was what he had been finally willing to share with him.

"Yes," Mordred stuttered, letting out a deep sigh trying to find his voice. "You had the vision as well, correct? This is the secret, the burden, you wanted to share with me?"

Emrys closed his eyes, and when he opened them, Mordred saw Merlin, sad but determined, and he could literally feel the weight of destiny on his shoulders. Exactly what Mordred felt himself at the moment. It was unshakable, deeply imbedded in his very core, and it was exhausting. Merlin didn't even have to confirm his question, as he could see it clearly in those expressive eyes. The same loneliness and exhaustion.

"I'm so sorry, Mordred," Merlin said, not removing the hand on his shoulder. "I know how hard it is to be given the power of foresight, to see glimpses of the future."

Mordred felt his initial panic returning, in full force. This vision, him killing Arthur. The man who made him feel loved, offered him a place he could call home. A place where he was accepted. This couldn't be right. He would never do such a thing, no matter how angry he would be. Killing someone in cold blood? How could he become such a person? The weight of it was too much, and it made him feel sick.

"Do you think this vision might come to pass?" It came out as barely more than a whisper, while he tried to stop the tears from coming to his eyes. Blinking hard he focused on the rocky ground of the cavern. It was of no use though, as he felt the tears rolling down his cheeks. Finally he had found a home, and he would have to let it go.

"For a while, yes, I did." Merlin admitted. "I…"

Mordred's raised hand abruptly stopped Merlin from talking. If he was destined to kill the king, it could be prevented, right here, right now. Arthur was going to bring about a better land, a land where magic would be free. Mordred truly believed in him, and he knew he wasn't going to be the one responsible for his death. In fact, he would die for him if need be.

"Then you have to kill me." It came out steady and strong, no doubt whatsoever. It was the only way to stop this vision from ever occurring. The only way to save Arthur, his friend, his mentor, his king. He was a knight of Camelot, it was his duty.

"Wh, what?" Merlin's voice faltered somewhat before he continued. "I'm not going to kill you, how could you even think that?"

"Merlin, please. You have to kill me, so I won't kill Arthur." Mordred begged, but he couldn't help it. It was the only way, it needed to be done. "With your magic..."

"No!" Emrys' voice was back, it penetrated his soul, as if he knew all the answers. "Mordred, I didn't say this vision will actually happen, not anymore."

"Why?"

"I think the future is always changing, and we can play an active part in the outcome of our own destinies, as you were shown with the Dragon's Horn. The object is on its way to be hidden in another safe place." Merlin's mouth formed a tiny smile. "There is a reason you've seen the vision once shown to me by a seer. Maybe it's because we need to stand together to change it?"

Mordred didn't know what to say. He still had to come to grips with the vision itself, and it was too overwhelming to think clearly. Of course the times ahead were always in motion, but would it really be possible to change destiny itself, like Merlin put it? Change it without him dying? Of course the man had had the opportunity to think about it for a long time. But still...

"You saved Arthur's life, you also saved mine." Merlin shrugged. "You have a good heart, but you just need to learn how to control your magic, and your fears about it."

Was Merlin really saying what Mordred thought he was saying? Was the great warlock Emrys actually offering him trust and guidance? When he'd returned to Camelot, it had been something that was very much on Mordred's mind. When Merlin had pushed him away, he had tried to sever the idea from his mind, coming to terms with the thought it would never happen. That there was something holding Merlin back. And now he knew what it was, and it all became clear. Very clear.

If Merlin thought he would be the downfall of King Arthur and Camelot, and the gift of foresight had told him as much, destiny showing it to him for a reason, then he understood Merlin's fear. He understood Merlin's behaviour towards him. Mordred knew he would have felt the same way if the tables had been turned. But this was about himself, his future. This vision couldn't come true, he would fight against it with all his being. If Merlin believed they could change it, so should he.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have?"

Mordred thought it over for a moment, but already knew the answer. He would have done everything in his power to keep Arthur and Camelot safe, no question about that. He would have done what Merlin had done. So he shook his head, letting out a deep sigh. "No, I wouldn't."

"We're going to be all right." Merlin gave him a smile that definitely reached his eyes, giving them a sparkle Mordred hadn't seen since he was a child. And all he wanted to do was to believe it, with all his heart. The smile had the undeniable effect of calming him down. The images of death and of a roaring dragon were slowly leaving his mind, when something occurred to him. Where was the dragon?

Fear returned and Mordred frantically looked around. "The dragon and the horn?"

Merlin's hand, obviously still on his shoulder, squeezed lightly, calming him down once more, as if part of the man's magic was connecting with his own. "Kilgharrah is taking the Dragon's Horn to a safe place."

"Kilgharrah?"

"That's his name."

"And he's your, uhm, friend?"

"Sort of, long story," Merlin said. "I'll tell you about it someday."

"But if he took the horn, what do we tell Arthur?"

"I'll figure it out."

"Like you always do?"

"Ah, well, we don't want to upset the royal oaf with difficult magical related stories, right?"

"Royal oaf?"

"Another long story."

Mordred couldn't help but smile, inwardly. Merlin was the only one calling the king all kinds of names, and Arthur even seemed to like it. Like they were playing this game at times to find out who was best in calling the other as many bad names as possible. It wasn't very appropriate, but Merlin didn't seem to care. There was a deep friendship between the king and his servant, and Mordred could only hope to find that kind of friendship as well. He was hopeful though.

"We should leave this place." Merlin walked past him, searching the cavern.

"Yes, we should find the others."

"Wait." Merlin stopped all of a sudden, concentrating, his eyes tightly shut and a grimace on his face.

"What?"

"Gwaine, Arthur."

"What?"

"We need to..." Merlin was up and running over rocks and sand, towards the left side of the cavern, where there was a huge opening. Mordred had to run to catch up.

Of course there had to be another obstacle on this quest. Gwaine was hardly surprised when the tunnel opened up into a round space, cut out of this rock, clean of dust and cobwebs. The knight had seen too much to dismiss anything to do with magic and dragons. But this place had to do with both. If Arthur thought it was just an ordinary mine, then he'd better think again. It was as if this place was doing everything in its power to stop them from reaching the horn.

The orange glow was very bright, and it lit up everything, but there seemed to be no exit to this round area. As far as Gwaine could see it was a dead end, and they were stuck, again. How were they ever going to find their friends if this magical mine had them wandering around forever? Gwaine wasn't the type to give up, and knowing Arthur the way he did, neither would he. But what would be the next move if all seemed lost? Going home was not an option.

"There's your dragon." Arthur waved his arms around, his sword swaying dangerously over Gwaine's head. "A glowy orange space, wonderful." It sounded sarcastic with a touch of suppressed anger.

"This has to be magic."

"Well, maybe it's one of Morgana's little tricks," Arthur sniffed, and suddenly hit his fist against the wall. "We have to find a way to go on. We have to. We owe it to Merlin and Mordred, we have to find them. To hell with the horn, as long as we find them, we can't leave them behind, it's..." He hit the wall once more, closing his eyes, barely keeping in tears of frustration.

Before Gwaine could offer his support, convincing him they would find a way, a sizzling sound came from overhead. As if someone just lit a fire, and as they both looked up, swords held in a tight grip, standing up to whatever it was, as little fiery dragon-shaped figures flew over their heads. Gwaine was staring at them in wonder when Arthur shoved him to the ground. They were doing this a lot lately, the knight concluded with a grin.

"Yes, definitely magic." Arthur was up again in no time, raising his weapon to slash at the dozen or so magical creatures that consisted only of fire. "Watch it, Gwaine, behind you!"

Gwaine rolled, jumped up and hit one of them, all in one go. His sword went straight through the flames, but it didn't affect the little dragon, who hissed and turned toward him, bringing down at least six of his little mates. As one they dove at Gwaine, who rolled back on the ground to avoid their touch. The heat they emitted was enough to stay away from them. Someone out there really didn't want them to proceed, and the only creature capable of this was a dragon. Not these conjured little fire devils, but a real dragon.

Arthur pulled him up by his sleeve and they stood, back to back. Their swords slashed through air and fire, their rapid breathing and the sizzling and hissing of the creatures were frightening sounds echoing through the circular cave.

Some of the little buggers abruptly flew behind a wall to their right, out of sight. How was that even possible? There were no exits in this place, or was there? Gwaine could feel the sizzles and the hot air that blew back towards them. Not enough to hurt them, but enough to scare them away. But from just that horn, or something more?

It was about time to find out, because nothing in the world would be able to scare Sir Gwaine away, so he didn't hesitate when he dove towards the wall, immediately finding an opening on the other side. It was cleverly hidden because the wall stood a couple of feet away from the background wall, having the same colour. If there really was a dragon, he needed to see it. He needed to know. These fiery dragons could only have been conjured by its spell.

"Gwaine, stop." Arthur sounded out of breath, slashing away at the left over dragons.

Gwaine cursed his chainmail, and pulled it off as quickly as possible, throwing it on the ground before pushing himself through the narrow opening. The sharp rock surface cut through his breeches and doublet, and his hands were getting raw, but he clawed his way onward by sheer force.

The moment his head was through the opening, his mouth dropped open in awe and fear, for what he saw was beyond his imagination. Something he had never seen before in his life. A dragon. Not a small fiery one, but a huge beast making his way through a cavern twice as high and wide as itself. There were wisps of smoke coming from its nostrils, and there was fire on his lips. The tiny fire dragons flew toward it, disappearing inside its mouth, giving Gwaine a quick glance of a row of sharp teeth. He shuddered, and froze. The dragon was gazing down at him.

Trying to grab his sword, Gwaine cursed as his mid section remained stuck in the opening, and he couldn't move back or forward. He was totally helpless, a pickled egg in a bottle to be eaten. Damn if he let a dragon win, was he a knight or an egg?

"Gwaine?" He could hear Arthur shouting behind him, and it seemed as if the dragon heard it as well. It cocked its enormous head, observing him, like he was some specimen in a jar, probably not even worth nibbling on. And before Gwaine could do or say anything, the monster's snout pulled into a smile. A smile, of all things. It smiled down at him, and then it turned away, stalking through a large, dark exit, and disappeared from sight.

Letting out a large gulp of air, Gwaine tried to regain his dignity by pulling himself out of the hole, scrambling up, his sword held high. He wasn't going to follow that dragon, no way. He'd seen it now, and it was, of course, great to know he'd been right all along. There was a dragon. Merlin had been right as well. But coming face to face with the creature... Gwaine didn't feel like repeating it soon. He was safe, standing right where he was, his back against the wall.

The cavern in front of him was huge. Of course it had to be, or a dragon wouldn't have been able to go in and out. There had to be an exit large enough for it to fly away. The orange glow was slowly diminishing, though. Before long it would be completely gone, leaving him standing in total darkness.

Did he dare turn to see if Arthur was following him? Did he even want Arthur to know there had been a real dragon? He knew Arthur's outlook on everything magical, so perhaps it wasn't the wisest of ideas? The creature had known they were coming, but how? And was the objective of their quest still standing, as in, was the Dragon's Horn still here? Gwaine doubted it. They should make it their goal to find Merlin and Mordred, and get the hell out of here.

"Gwaine?" Arthur's voice came from inside the hole, and the knight could see two arms sticking out already, while the king kept his sword in one hand. The familiar mop of blond hair and armoured body didn't follow suit. "Where are you, Gwaine?"

"I'm here." He stuck his head inside the hole, almost positive the gigantic dragon would not return to gobble him up, or he would have done so already. "Need a hand?"

"Damn it, I'm stuck!" Arthur's voice changed from worried to angry in less than a heartbeat, and there was the sound of shuffling feet, while one gloved hand was trying to get a hold on the rocky sides of the opening, and the other one almost dropped the sword.

"You did remove your armour and chainmail before diving into this hole, I hope?" Gwaine couldn't help but chuckle.

"I thought you were in trouble, did you think there was time?"

"I did, remove mine I mean."

"Well, good for you, now grab my wrists and pull me out."

"Gwaine!" This time it wasn't Arthur's voice vibrating through the largeness of the cavern. It was Merlin's, and when Gwaine turned to face him, he also saw Mordred on his heel. They were alive, and looking exhausted but otherwise as well as could be. Relief washed over the knight, while he spun forward to grab Merlin in a fierce embrace.

"Merlin!" The hug was accompanied by some major slapping on the back. "Mordred, I can't tell you how glad I am to see you two, unharmed and all."

"Likewise." Merlin wore a smile from ear to ear, and it made Gwaine stop in his tracks. There was a subtle difference to the young man's demeanour, a change missed by anyone who didn't know Merlin the way Gwaine did. And the knight had to let out another sigh of relief. He'd hated seeing Merlin so down, pushing everyone away from him. His friend wouldn't talk about it with him or anyone, and it was eating away at him. Gwaine had seen it happening right in front of his eyes. But this smile gave him hope.

The knight wondered if they had also encountered the dragon. They must have, they were right behind it. Maybe the creature hadn't seen them? "There was a dragon, did you see it?"

"Yes, the dragon took the horn," Merlin answered, pulling up his shoulders in response as if it was only normal to see a dragon every day. "The creature didn't see us, though."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes," Mordred answered instantly, looking at Merlin first, as if he needed confirmation. It made Gwaine wonder what in the world had happened they weren't telling him. These two seemed to be having so many secrets at times, but Gwaine didn't think it was his place to ask. If they were ready, they would let him know was his motto. "But we saw him leave with the horn, there was nothing we could do to stop it."

The knight could only agree, thinking of his chance meeting with the beast. He really thought he'd taken his last breath when the fire spitting monster had looked down at him. No, he wasn't so sure it would even be a good idea to tell Arthur about it. Although, lying to the king? "Do you think we should tell Arthur?"

Arthur's name seemed to have an instant effect on Merlin, whose worried look was painfully obvious like it always was when it concerned the king. As if nothing else mattered. "Where's Arthur, is he all right?"

"He's stuck."

"Stuck?"

"There," Gwaine pointed at the narrow hole behind him. He'd been standing in front of it, hiding it from view, and with a grin he registered Merlin and Mordred's surprise when they saw two arms and a sword sticking out in the semi-darkness. "These royals, always eating too much. I think he's definitely getting fat."

"It's my armour," Arthur's muffled voice shouted, sounding like a royal thundercloud to Gwaine, which only made the knight feel more gleeful. Merlin and Mordred were safe, the horn was gone, they could go home. Nothing would temper his happiness. Well, they did have to find an answer to this royal problem, of course.

"To answer your question," Merlin whispered in Gwaine's ear, "best not tell Arthur about the dragon. You know how he can be. Here let me." With a barely contained chortle, Merlin got on his knees, peering into the hole. "I'm gone for a short time, and look what you've gotten yourself into."

"Merlin!" Arthur sounded relieved, happy even, "I thought I heard your voice, are you and Mordred all right?"

"Yes, we are."

"Good, then get me the hell out of this hole!"

"I haven't heard you say please yet." Merlin gave Gwaine a wink.

"Please? I'll give you some please..." Arthur's arms were swaying, his sword missing Merlin's head by a long shot, making Merlin grin while Gwaine couldn't help but laugh. It was a rare treat to see their king like this, and he couldn't blame Merlin for enjoying the moment. Mordred looked a little shocked though, but well, he would get over it. The young knight had much to learn. Do not come between Arthur and Merlin was one of those things. Do not engage while they're at it.

" _Merlin!"_ Arthur yelled, his free hand clawing the air as if he was trying to grab onto something, preferably Merlin's neckerchief. But all of his efforts resulted into nothing. Merlin was way too agile, and already back on his feet.

"Shouting isn't going to work, Sire." Merlin produced a look of total innocence.

"All right, get me out, please."

With unexpected ease, Gwaine and Mordred pulled Arthur out of his uncomfortable situation. Leaving the king would probably result in some new training methods, more like torture than training, that Gwaine wasn't going to enjoy. As much as he hated to admit it, the royal was in charge. The dirty, smelly, disgruntled looking royal.

When Arthur lifted one of his gloved fingers, in an oh so familiar gesture, Gwaine waited patiently for the man to get it over with. He'd seen it many times before, and normally right in front of Merlin's nose. The non-threatening finger moved from side to side. "One word to anyone about this, and I'll have your heads."

"Of course, my lord." Merlin produced an overly dramatic bow, making Gwaine snort. "Wouldn't want everyone to know you're getting fat."

"I'm not..." Arthur didn't finish the sentence. Instead he awkwardly patted Merlin on the arm. "Glad to see you're safe. You too, Mordred." He took Mordred's arm, pulling him into a tight hug. Gwaine shook his head at the scene before him, asking himself why Arthur never actually hugged Merlin. The man wasn't afraid to show affection when it came to young Mordred. Of course Merlin had left him stuck for a little while longer than necessary, and maybe this was as good as a reason as any? Didn't mean he shouldn't give the young man some praise now and again.

"The horn, is it in this cavern?" Arthur suddenly asked, pulling a cobweb from his nose, scrutinising them and his surroundings. "Or did you find it already?"

"We found its resting place, Sire," Mordred began, his face neutral and serious. Mordred could do serious very well. He was a little too serious for Gwaine's taste, but at times it could be fun, as he was known to corrupt young gullible knights. "But the Dragon's Horn was no longer there."

"It must have been moved a long time ago," Merlin added, without a hint of doubt. It wasn't even a surprise anymore. Merlin might act like a fool, but he had never been able to fool Gwaine. There was something about Merlin, and one day, he'd find out. Of course he hoped Merlin himself would trust him enough to let him in on his secrets. Because there was no doubt about him having some big ones. The way Arthur fell for the ever present little white lies was beyond him. The royal was a brave man, but very naive at times. Merlin would never do anything to harm the king though, and whatever he'd been holding back, this was one thing as clear as day to Gwaine.

Merlin had told Gwaine the dragon took the horn, and of course they were not going to tell Arthur about the dragon. He would want to kill it right away, and would maybe even hunt it to the ends of the Earth. And this meant more quests and the cold ground to sleep on. The dragon would have vaporised them all, if that had been its intentions. Gwaine didn't think it would become a threat to any of them in the future. Merlin for one didn't look very worried about it.

"But, the information was solid," Arthur insisted. "It had to be here, in the mines of Huail."

"Sorry, Arthur."

"Are you two absolutely certain about this?"

"Yes," Merlin and Mordred answered in unison.

"I mean, how do you know it was a 'resting place' you found?"

"From my research with Gaius," Merlin stated. "Trust me."

"Not if I can help it."

Gwaine held his breath, waiting for Arthur to decide on their next course of action. All he wanted was to go home, make his way to the tavern, drink until he was utterly drunk and find the warmth of a woman's body. It wasn't too much to ask, now, was it? Although, he probably take a bath first. Smelling like he did, no woman would want to come near him.

He had a great new adventure to tell, even if he had to leave the dragon out of it. Even if they hadn't retrieved the Dragon's Horn. He would ask Merlin about the dragon someday. There had to be something more to it, and he had the feeling it was also something left out by his young friend.

Arthur let out a very deep sigh, scratching his head. "This quest has been a disaster. Thank goodness my father can't see me now." He shook his head, releasing dust and cobwebs. "Let's go home."

"Uhm, do pull off your armour and chainmail, sire, or you'll get stuck again," Merlin responded, his face a mask of seriousness once more, although Gwaine could see the twinkle in his eyes.

"One word, _Merlin_ , one word."

tbc


	7. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

It was over and done. When they had returned to Camelot, Merlin had rested for only a day, much to Gaius' discomfort, before returning to the sea of Meredor, to find Kilgharrah and hide the horn once more. Its new place was a natural cave high inside the white rocky cliffs on the beach. The only way to get there was on the back of the dragon.

Arthur's quest might have been a disaster, as the king had called it, but to Merlin it had been most successful. The Dragon's Horn was safe once more, and he was slowly but surely building up a sense of trust with Mordred. The boy begging him to kill him was still fresh in Merlin's mind, and this might well have been the turning point for both of them. Mordred had not only saved him, he had wanted to lay down his life for Arthur. This confession had touched Merlin's very soul.

Gwaine had promised them to keep their secret about the dragon, which was good. He definitely trusted the knight to do so. One day he knew he had to tell him more, because Gwaine was really starting to get too curious about certain things, and it was only a matter of time before he found out.

On their way back home from the mines, Mordred had started to open up to him, and this was mutual. Not that they could speak about the vision or what really happened to the horn with Arthur nearby. It was a secret not only Merlin had to keep, but this time he could share it with someone. He certainly hoped together they could beat the odds, and become real friends. He knew Mordred had wanted this for a long time, and it felt good to be able to give in, and go with his gut feeling. No matter what Kilgharrah said, he knew he was doing the right thing.

The courtyard of Camelot looked more like a welcoming home then before. It had looked so bleak and uninviting when they had returned from Ismere. When his horse came to a halt, it was Mordred standing there. He must have seen him riding up to the city, and it was clear to Merlin he'd been waiting for him when he took the reins, impatiently lingering for the warlock to dismount.

"Is it in a safe place?" Mordred asked, and Merlin knew he meant the horn. They revered to it as 'it' whenever there was a chance they were overheard. And in Camelot the chance was always very real. The way Mordred whispered made Merlin smile. It had this enthusiastic tone to it, that he would not have heard before the quest for the horn. Maybe he'd just been blind to the positive sides of the druid boy, only thinking about the vision, and a way to stop Arthur from trusting Mordred.

Merlin had been terrified, finding out that Mordred had seen the vision as well. He didn't know how he himself would have reacted, if it had been him killing Arthur. Mordred was surprisingly calm about it now. Very determined to beat the odds and make his own future. Beating destiny, a dangerous game they were both willing to play. And after saving both Arthur and his life, Mordred at least deserved the chance to show them he could be trusted.

"Yes, it's in a safe place."

"That's good."

"Yes, it is." Merlin wasn't quite ready to slap the younger man on the back, but the tension that had always hung between them was all but gone. Washed away by the salty waters of the mines of Huail. It felt like a new beginning, almost.

"Want to tell me where?"

Merlin hesitated, not quite certain if he should tell it to Mordred. The less people knew about it, the better. This should really be his secret to keep, and sharing magical related occurrences was something so completely new to him, he didn't even know if he could. Although, this was a good place to start doing so, to fully ignore the wall he'd raised around himself for years.

"Do you trust me?" Mordred extended his hand, a look of expectation on his ever so serious face, his blue eyes shining with hope.

It didn't take long for Merlin to grab it, while he gave it a firm squeeze. "Yes, Mordred, I do."

The smile he got in return was enough to make the day a whole lot brighter. Destiny had showed them what was in store, but that didn't mean they couldn't change it...

In the end it was Merlin's firm belief they only had to share their secrets and stand together.

 _The End_


End file.
